


Change My World

by phoenixgal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Did I mention slow?, Family, Family Feels, Genderfluid Teddy Lupin, M/M, Oblivious Harry, Slow Build, Supportive Ginny, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixgal/pseuds/phoenixgal
Summary: Harry's life is complicated and most people don't really get it. They don't get how he could leave Ginny but still be with her or how he could have taken so long to realize he was gay. When Harry unexpectedly reconnects with Neville, he's relieved to have found a friend who does seem to get it. But is there something Harry is missing?





	1. Needle's End

**Author's Note:**

> This story really is a slow build with lots of family feels. The smut doesn't come until the end and isn't the focus, just so's you know. There are probably a total of less than half a dozen Harry/Neville fics I've actually really liked that weren't just super short throwaways. Which is why I seem to have gotten it in my head to try and write every permutation of them possible. My WIP folder went a little nuts with ideas.

Harry eyed the nondescript building on Needle's End, one of the little lanes just off Diagon. Sandwiched between a divination salon and a pastie shop, it was barely more than a battered old door with a bit of graffiti set into an ancient stone wall.

“Where in the world have you brought me?” he asked, as Charlie pulled out his wand and scrunched his eyes at the graffiti.

“Best club in Britain,” Charlie said.

“Er. I think it's closed,” Harry said, glancing around. It was funny how children made you feel like being out past dark was excitingly forbidden. It really wasn't that late, though nothing else seemed to be happening at this end of wizarding London. A single street lamp flickered at them. Harry couldn't remember the last time he was out past dark. That was the whole point of this absurd outing, he supposed.

“Right. Here we go.” Charlie tapped his wand on the graffiti, tracing along its faded but colorful lines.

“Oh, of course, how could I not have known,” Harry said, his eyes raised in only half mock annoyance. He wondered sometimes if he would ever get over the sensation that the wizarding world had more secrets to uncover for him. It didn't matter that he'd been an auror for several years now or even that, despite his best efforts, he was still one of the most famous names in the magical world. He still felt a little bit like a lost outsider every time anyone did anything like this, opening a secret passage or revealing that something wasn't what it seemed.

The door swung open and surprisingly muggle sounding music wafted down a little corridor. Harry raised his eyebrows and followed Charlie as he walked in. They went down the corridor and emerged into the club.

He should have known it would involve expansion charms. Illegal ones, he was fairly sure from the look of it, but he wasn't there with his magical law enforcement hat on and needed to remind himself. The music wasn't too loud, but it wasn't quiet either, a strangely electronic sound floating over the crowd and emanating from speakers that literally floated above a surprisingly active dance floor. In fact, the whole space had a sense of openness because there didn't appear to be any roof. The temperature must have been controlled through spells. More than just the unusual speakers floated. Pixies were flying about in various corners, doing exactly what they tend to do, which was annoy people worse than insects. Lights flashed in time with the music and danced above the crowd. Little ribbons flashed by them and then little scraps of shiny paper, all of it possessed by some magic Harry couldn't see.

“Best club in Britain, eh?” Harry asked, glancing around.

“Best club, only queer club, same difference,” Charlie said. “Come on, I'll buy you a drink.”

“I only had James's leftovers for dinner, you know,” Harry said. He was embarrassed to say that cleaning off the bits of food his children left on their plates was a common dinner.

“Excellent, then the firewhiskey can go right to your head without any interference,” Charlie said.

“Merlin,” Harry said.

“I told you I was going to get you out there,” Charlie said.

“You did,” Harry agreed, his eyes moving across the dozens of witches and wizards gathered there. He tried not to feel nervous, or at least, not to show his nerves.

It had been nearly a year since what Ginny occasionally referred to as “the great bedroom reshuffling” had happened. Harry still thought he was in shock from everything that had happened since then. Mostly he was just grateful that even if they had realized they couldn't share a bed, they could share a household. It seemed rather impossible and if Ginny had not been the one leading the charge, then Harry didn't think he ever would have believed any of it could come together as amicably as it had.

“It's been a year,” Charlie said, echoing Harry's own thoughts.

A year. A year since the bedroom reshuffle. A year since Harry had come out. A year since his marriage had ended, though with toddlers at home and a baby in nappies, sometimes it was hard to really know it.

“Yeah, near abouts.”

“So?” Charlie said, cocking his head at the scene in front of them.

“It's...” Harry looked around. “Different?”

Charlie chuckled. “Let's go get you laid.”

“Oh, Charlie, no,” Harry said. “Baby steps.”

“Fuck that,” Charlie said, already walking toward the bar and waving to the bartender. “Two Ogden's specials,” he said to a woman who looked about his age.

The bartender grinned in return, pouring two firewhiskeys from a tall bottle and then waving her wand at them. Her hair was shaved and one ear was dotted with crystal earrings up the side. She pushed the drinks toward them. “Charlie Weasley.”

“This is Bronwyn,” Charlie said. “My year at Hogwarts.”

“Bron,” she said, nodding at him. “No need to ask your name.” She raised a single, pierced eyebrow at Charlie.

“Not even, Bron. Just his wingman tonight.”

“No,” Harry said. “No wingman. Just… er…” He looked around again at the bustle of people. It wasn't too busy, but he was oddly aware of everyone.

“Drink up,” Charlie suggested. “No need to be nervous.”

Harry wasn't nervous, not exactly. It was more that he felt he had no right to be there. He had no right because he had been such a git to Ginny, even if she had forgiven him. He had no right because he didn't feel queer enough. Too queer to stay married, not queer enough to have had any real experience. He had to right to be out anywhere, not when Lily still wasn't sleeping through the night regularly.

But Charlie had been so insistent. And Ginny had egged her brother on.

The thing was, other than a lone snog with a visiting junior diplomat, Harry hadn't been with anyone but Ginny since he was seventeen. While the snog had been very nice, if a little panic inducing, and Harry still sometimes thought about the man's dark eyes and full lips, going from that to “getting laid” seemed like far too big a leap.

Maybe he was just a little nervous after all.

The firewhiskey helped loosen him up as Charlie took him around and they chatted with people. It really wasn't bad at all. Harry hadn't had a pub night in awhile, but he did remember them, back in the depths of his life before James was born, out with Hermione and Ron and Ginny, when she managed to get away from early morning practices. This wasn't really so different. Harry enjoyed watching as Charlie hit on a young French bloke. He enjoyed talking to an older couple about how they met during the Triwizard Tournament long before Harry was born, one a Hogwarts student and the other from Durmstrang.

But then, when Charlie started prodding him to talk to a man about his age who was tall and fit and on the dance floor, Harry resisted. He knew Charlie's agenda and he just couldn't. He couldn't go pull some random bloke. It just wasn't him.

That was when he spied Neville Longbottom sidling up to the bar and ordering a drink.

“Neville!” Harry said, waving. “Sorry, Charlie. I see an old friend.”

“Harry?” Neville turned away from the bar, where he was holding a glass with something bubbling and green. He looked surprised, but pleased to see Harry.

“It's great to see you!” Harry said. “How long has it been?” He genuinely couldn't remember the last time he'd run into Neville.

“Maybe just after Albus was born?” Neville said. “I remember you came to the Botanic Garden.”

Harry had a vague memory of that. He and Ginny had brought James, newly walking, to let him walk barefoot on the warm grass on a winter day. The magical dome of the gardens covered them all and the wizarding public were out picnicking and strolling. Neville had been at the desk.

“Oh, that long?” Harry asked. “I seem to recall you and Ginny caught up while I chased Jamie around and kept him from eating anything poisonous or getting snared by anything sinister.”

“And now I understand you have another one.” Neville smiled and sipped his drink. He looked good, Harry thought. He had been so chubby back at school. Now he was tall and slightly muscular, as if he had grown into his weight. His blond hair had darkened to a light brown. He looked happy and comfortable in himself in a way that he hadn't back at school, a way that Harry, who was still trying to figure everything out, envied.

“Yeah, Lily,” Harry said, hoping his eyes weren't going too starry. He knew he was besotted with his youngest in a way that he hadn't been with the first two. Part of it was how she had come to be and knowing she would be the last baby. But part of it was something about fathers and daughters that he knew in his head was probably a little sexist, his desire to protect her and see her dressed in the absurd lacy things Molly bought her, but he also couldn't seem to help feeling on some gut level.

“All right, out with them,” Neville said, smiling.

Harry produced the photos from his pocket. There was one of James holding her that was especially cute. Albus hovered in the background looking sullen and occasionally pulling his brother's hair or poking him, while James sat perfectly still so as not to disturb the two month old he was given charge of for the picture.

Neville smiled at the photo and handed it back. “They're adorable, obviously. Though I have to admit, that might be the first time anyone's ever shown me their new baby pictures at a gay pub.”

“Oh Merlin,” Harry said, knowing he was blushing as he shoved the photo back in his pocket. “I'm terrible at this. I told Charlie I had no business coming out with him like this.”

“No, don't be silly, Harry,” Neville said. “It's fine. I love kids. They really are adorable. I'm just taking the piss, just a little.”

“Thanks, Neville,” Harry said. He settled himself at the barstool next to him. “It's all so… absurd. I suppose you read the papers?”

“Maybe a little,” Neville said. “I always assume they get a lot wrong.”

Harry shrugged. “I suppose the broad outlines are right.”

“Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world, splits with wife, holds orgies in home – are his children at risk?”

“Oh, Godric's Balls, it didn't say that, did it?”

“No, not quite. The Quibbler had a story filled with lurid speculation like that though. It was all questions. Is Harry Potter involved with a house elf?”

“I don't fault Luna the money for selling it, but The Quibbler really is the worst sort of gossip rag now,” Harry griped. “No, I meant just that Ginny and I split and that I was the reason, because I realized I'm gay.” It still felt a little odd saying it, even though practically the whole wizarding world knew.

“But…?” Neville prompted.

“But we're still living together. And we decided to have Lily. I know, it's mad. Everyone thinks we're mad.”

“I don't think you're mad.” Neville put his half consumed drink on the bar and leaned against the railing.

“Well, thanks for that, but it may be a minority opinion.”

“I don't think you ever did anything to be popular, Harry,” Neville observed.

“I guess not.”

“Get another drink,” Neville suggested.

“Does it have to be bubbly and colorful?” Harry asked, nodding at Neville's drink.

“Oh, don't you know the rules? Gay men, pink umbrellas, purple fizzing drinks, all the way.”

Harry let out a nervous laugh, but he ordered another firewhiskey when Bron came over.

“So, are you still at the Botanic Gardens? I'm ashamed to say we haven't been back in ages,” Harry said.

Neville began talking about his job at the gardens, where he had transitioned to research and development, working as a liaison with companies who bought their potions and herbology supplies from the gardens. He asked Harry about work and Harry talked about his latest case, dealing with a rise of racist sentiments in some of the small wizarding villages and how it seemed to have replaced the pureblood madness in a very odd way.

That was depressing talk, but then Neville began asking about the Ministry renovations and Hermione's art gallery project, the politics of which were too funny not to laugh about. It was also funny to think about Hermione spearheading an art gallery, since she had so little artistic talent or even much art appreciation.

Somewhere in there, Harry tried one of Neville's strange bubbly drinks and thought it wasn't bad at all. “Magical herbs,” Neville said with a wink. And he began to feel at home, like it really was just another pub night, something he needed in his life more often.

“Er, there's someone trying to get your attention,” Neville said, gesturing behind Harry.

Harry saw Charlie gesturing at him, the meaning of which was relatively clear.

“Oh, Merlin,” Harry swore. “My brother-in-law.” Then he corrected himself. “Former, I mean. He told me he wasn't leaving unless I left with someone.”

“Oh?” Neville raised his eyebrows with a smile.

“He's only trying to help. I just don't think I can pull a random bloke at a pub. It's just not me. And it would probably end up all over The Quibbler too.”

Neville smiled. “I'm not a random bloke, you know.”

“Oh, I didn't mean,” Harry said.

Neville shrugged. “Come on. We've been talking for awhile. I only came out for a drink after working late.”

Neville took Harry's hand and he felt his nerves strike up again. “What are we…? Oh.”

Neville walked Harry across the floor, winking very obviously at Charlie as he passed, tugging Harry's hand as they went to the corridor and back out into Needle's End, the music thrumming behind them.

“Oh my,” Harry said.

“You're welcome,” Neville said, chuckling. The night had gotten cooler, the summer air fading. Autumn would be there soon.

For a moment, Neville held his hand and they stood out in the street under the stars. Then Neville released him and he grinned. “That was perfect,” he said. “Absolutely perfect, Nev.” Harry laughed. “He'll think I went home with you, or at least that we, well, you get the idea. Perfect. You saved me from whoever Charlie was going to try and pull on my behalf.”

Neville shrugged. He looked suddenly slightly more awkward in the lamplight than he had in the club. Harry wondered if now Neville was worried Harry expected something from him or if maybe he was being too grateful. It was all so awkward, the whole idea of dating. Harry had wanted a family and security so badly that he had thrown himself at Ginny after the war and never really looked back until they'd been married for too long, with two kids, and he felt old, even though he had only just turned 30.

“I should get home,” Harry said. “It's late. Or, I suppose it's not that late for you, but Lily's still not sleeping that well and… Well, I should go. I don't mean to keep you.”

“It's all right,” Neville said. “I'm glad I ran into you.”

“Oh, me too,” Harry said, though he then felt awkward about being too emotional again. “Er, you should come around for tea some afternoon. I've been taking my family leave by taking off Fridays. I know you said your schedule is flexible. We… I could use a friend.”

“Yes, of course,” Neville said, his voice somehow more formal than it had been in the club. “I'd love to do tea.”

“And see the kids,” Harry said. “They're a handful, but… Well, they're a handful.”

Neville chuckled slightly. “See you soon, then.”

“See you soon.” Harry apparated away before he could feel awkward again.


	2. Tea

When Harry swung open the door at Grimmauld Place and saw Neville standing there, he nearly smacked his forehead. “Oh no. Did we say today? We didn't.”

“We did?” Neville said, sounding unsure.

“Oh no,” Harry said. “Albus has been sick all week. He's not contagious, just really grumpy. But everything is a mess. And I was only planning cheese toasties for tea. Ginny went to do the errands. I… I'm afraid I completely forgot.”

“It's all right, Harry,” Neville said. “I can come back another time. I don't mind.”

Harry stood in the doorway, holding Lily on his hip, looking at Neville and feeling guilty and disappointed. It had been a month since they met at the pub. He had been looking forward to seeing him again. It was just his luck that it would happen the week that everything had been so overwhelming.

“Daaaaaaaad!” James's voice came from the back of the house. “He's bit me again!”

Harry ran his hand over his face and let out a sigh. “I,” he said to Neville. “I mean...”

“Or, I could come in and help you for a bit,” Neville offered.

“Oh, no,” Harry said. “We should just reschedule. You're a guest.”

“Daaaaad!” James yelled again.

Harry hesitated.

“Go on,” Neville said, stepping up toward the door.

“I… if you're sure,” Harry said.

He hurried down the hallway and found James holding Albus hostage with a wooden spoon and a great deal of spellotape wound all around him and even more balled up on the floor, wasted. The amount of tape that a single four year-old could waste was impressive, Harry had realized.

“James Potter!” Harry said. “What have we said about tying him up?”

“I taped him,” James announced.

“Daaaadddddd!” Albus wailed. Then he wailed something else that was entirely incoherent.

“Jamie, you know he's not feeling well,” Harry chided, as he started to get his son unwound, pulling the spellotape from his clothes. A small bit of it broke away from him and fluttered up, affixing itself to Albus's nose and turning green.

Getting Albus untangled with one hand was proving difficult, but that's when Neville leaned in. “Why don't you let me take Lily,” he suggested.

After just a moment of hesitation, Harry handed off Lily, who was luckily in that small baby stage where new people were still exciting, and not yet too scary. She gurgled at him and waved her fists.

“Who are you?” James demanded.

“Neville Longbottom,” Neville replied, matching James's tone of voice. “I'm an old friend of your parents'.”

“From Hogwarts?” James asked.

“Yes. That's right.”

“I'm going to Hogwarts one day,” James announced. “I'm going to be the bestest quidditch player ever.”

“That's excellent. I was always rubbish at quidditch.”

“Really?” James looked shocked.

“Why don't you show me to the kitchen, James,” Neville suggested. “And let your father deal with your little brother.”

“He bites,” James said, eying Albus like one would a feral animal. Harry sighed, but he was a little relieved that James bounded off to the kitchen with Neville behind him.

The spellotape, when applied in bulk, tended to get a little overzealous if it didn't have any spells to actually repair. Albus's clothes were in various states of transfiguration and his skin kept breaking out in spellotape inspired splotches. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks and Harry finally gave up, pulling his shirt over his head and picking up to go upstairs.

“Jamie mean,” Albus repeated several times through his tears.

“Yes, but you weren't so nice either, were you? No biting,” Harry reminded his son. “No biting ever.”

“Wanted the soolusoo,” Albus complained. He still had a lot of baby words and Harry had no idea what he had wanted.

“Still no excuse. No biting,” he repeated for good measure.

It took the better part of half an hour to get Albus out of his clothes and the spellotape off him. By the time he was finished, having changed a diaper and put his son into warm clothes, Albus was clearly sleepy. Harry gave him a final dose of his healing potion and watched as he dropped off in seconds, an exceedingly rare occurrence for a child who sometimes had insomnia.

When he got downstairs, he found Neville eating slightly burned cheese toasties with James at the kitchen table.

“Dad, Neville burned the toasties. He's a terrrrible cook.” James drew out the word terrible. Lately, that was his favorite word. Everything that wasn't perfect was terrible.

“Yes, I am,” Neville agreed amiably. He was still holding Lily, but the moment she saw Harry she started to fuss.

“Yes, yes,” Harry said, taking her, feeling slightly shell shocked by the scene. “Mummy will be home soon with special tea for you.”

“Can I play with my blocks?” James asked.

“Er, yes,” Harry said, looking at the leftovers on his son's plate. James jumped up and dashed toward the back playroom.

“Welcome to my life?” Harry said to Neville, feeling slightly bewildered. “I cannot believe you just made James cheese toasties.”

“I made you one too. Yours is also slightly burned.”

Harry laughed.

When Ginny got home with all the shopping and errands finished a few minutes later, Harry handed off Lily, who was starting to get impatient for her own meal.

“You don't mind, do you, Neville?” Ginny asked, sinking into the chair at the head of the table.

“Oh, no, of course not.” Neville stammered only slightly and averted his eyes.

She pulled her robe open and unlatched her bra, putting Lily to her breast and leaning back in the chair with a sigh.

“I can't believe we forgot about you,” Ginny said. “Or that Harry apparently let you in and put you to work.”

“He's been bonding with Lily,” Harry said.

“She's my sweetest baby,” Ginny said, gazing down at her daughter.

“Third children born into chaos know they have to be sweet,” Harry said.

“So, Harry got to see you a couple of weeks back, but I haven't seen you in ages. Catch me up, Neville.”

Harry made himself busy putting away the groceries as Neville and Ginny talked. Then James came in with his colorful blocks and they all ended up talking about muggle toys and childhood things, which was always bittersweet for Harry, though they enjoyed hearing about all the strange muggle things Dudley had as a child. Something about making sure his own children were a little spoiled was healing those wounds for Harry. James had a whole playroom of toys and two parents who loved him, even if they had screwed up a good bit in other ways.

By the time Neville left, it was James's bathtime and Lily had drifted to sleep, her little lips puckering as she continued to suckle in her dreams.

“You have a new friend,” Ginny said after they finally had all the kids down.

“Oh, don't look at me like that,” Harry said, feeling himself blush. “He's just a friend. You know that.”

“It's just… good for you,” Ginny said, carefully. “I want you to take care of yourself, you know. Having friends who are… like you...”

“Gay.”

“Well, yes,” she said. “It's good for you, I'm sure. It's why I made you go out with Charlie when he was in town.”

He sighed.

“We're just feeling our way through,” Ginny said. She leaned against him on the sofa in the upstairs sitting room that was now between their two bedrooms. It was so funny. By the end of their marriage, he barely wanted to touch her. Now that things were better, he wanted to touch her all the time. He wanted that human contact so much, so desperately. But then he felt guilty about it.

He didn't resist and leaned back against her. She smelled like baby, like Lily. It was strangely comforting. “You should date someone,” Harry said. “You deserve… everything you're telling me I deserve. I want you to take care of you too.”

She snorted. “Maybe when I'm not breastfeeding and changing diapers anymore. I do take care of myself. I go out with Bethany and Luna and Alicia. I have my mum friends. It's just a stage.”

“Maybe,” Harry said.

Ginny put an arm around him and it occurred to him that maybe she wanted to be touched as much as him. Maybe they'd muddle their way through it eventually.


	3. Dinner and Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My muse suddenly came back for this one. Not sure how much such a slow, domestic romance will be liked, but I plotted out a bunch more to be posted pretty soon, I think.

When Harry arrived at the gardens, he remembered immediately why it was so enchanting. Sitting at the edge of the wizarding village and obscured by spells, when you passed through the spells and got into the preserve and to the massive, crystal greenhouse, it was magical.

Neville was working in one of the out buildings, a gray stone building with fossil dragon remains in front of it. Harry paused, evaluating them for a minute.

“Oh, you're here,” Neville said, emerging from a path along the side.

“I left work early today,” Harry said. “I'm just fed up… well, never mind that.”

Neville raised his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. “Let me just grab my things.”

By the time he had come back out from his laboratory, Harry was pondering yet another skeleton of ancient seeming dragon remains.

“Dragon fossils,” Neville said. “New shipment in today.”

“Yes, but...”

They walked along the paths and back toward the village. As they passed back out through the spells that kept the place secret, the weather chilled and the autumn leaves showed themselves.

“It's the job of the department of magipaleontology,” Neville said as they walked. “Augustus Clarke, my colleague, runs the program. He just came back from a tour collecting them from confused muggles who think they're… some ancient extinct animal.”

“Dinosaurs.”

“Yes, that's it,” Neville said. “Apparently some of them looked enough like dragons that it can even get confusing. And dragons have their own evolution so it's not always evident. But there are magical tests. After all, dragons have magic in their bones.”

“Of course,” Harry said, amused.

“Tell me why work was so terrible,” Neville said.

“Oh, don't get me started,” Harry said. “Two racially motivated attacks on wizards up north in the last week.”

“Really? No,” Neville said. “That isn't… Harry I grew up in the wizarding world. It just isn't like that.”

Harry scoffed. “Well, tell that to the woman in St. Mungo's with curse damage.”

“But surely...” Neville furrowed his brow.

“It's come as a surprise to a lot of people, I think.” Harry kicked at the pebbles that lined the path to the village. “Neville, you have to understand what a revelation it was for me to come to the wizarding world. Not just because of magic or getting away from my horrible aunt and uncle, but because no one seemed to care that I was Desi. No one has ever written about this, but Hermione and I have talked about it and we think the wizarding world just took a different path as far back as the middle ages. But part of the reason was that pureblood status was so important. So what if you were Jewish or African or anything really, as long as your people had the right magical pedigree. It was even useful to be able to learn spells and wizarding innovations from other places. It was valued in a way. But we've just spent a decade trying to cure people of the idea that pureblood status matters and some people seem desperate to cling to some sort of… of an out group, I guess.”

“Even at the worst of Voldemort's reign, I never saw anything like that,” Neville said as they turned into the village. “Blaise was black and some of the other Slytherins.”

“If only evil sorted itself out just one way,” Harry said wryly.

“I didn't mean that,” Neville said.

“No, I know. I think it might be an odd byproduct of bringing the wizarding and muggle worlds a bit closer together. Hermione's introducing reforms inspired by muggle law, Ron and I have been working more closely with muggle police and security services, Hogwarts is doing a bit more for muggleborn students, there's been a surge of muggle studies literature out and muggle popular culture is a bit in fashion. Ginny told me that there's a cinema opening on Diagon next year to show old films. It's all a little astounding.”

“But those are good things,” Neville objected.

“Sure, but I've been wondering if we're not importing a bit of muggle prejudice as well. Or maybe it was there all along and we've just dug it up. I'm not sure.”

“The wizarding world does seem different,” Neville ventured. “But it should, shouldn't it? I certainly don't want things to be like they were.”

“No constant but change,” Harry said. They turned onto a street with tiny gingerbread style cottages with slightly askew little chimneys that couldn't be anything but wizarding houses. “Sorry, Nev. I didn't mean to talk about work. I don't especially want to think about all that anymore.”

“This one is mine,” Neville announced, opening a broken gate and walking up the miniature path to a little, violet house with blue shutters surrounded by ivy and a garden that was probably lush in the summer. “I didn't mean to talk about depressing things either, Harry, though you've given me something to think about. Come on in. I'll put away my work and we can go out again.”

Neville's house was stuffed with unmatched, old-fashioned wizarding furniture that Harry could only assume were hand-me-downs from various relatives. He only got to see the sitting room before Neville had set down his things and changed his work robes to something more suitable to go out in, but it seemed very lived in and comfortable, with books and plants everywhere.

“Oh, you're reading that novel about the goblin wars that everyone is reading!” Harry exclaimed when he saw what book was sitting on Neville's sofa.

Neville blushed slightly as he emerged from the bedroom, now dressed in a fitted jumper and smart trousers. “Yes, I know it's basically twaddle, but… have you read it?”

“Not exactly,” Harry said.

“Not exactly?” Neville led them outside and locked back up with a wave of his wand. “There's a great little hole in the wall up the road. Terrible ambiance, but the food's delicious. I've been everywhere in the village and… well, I eat out a lot, but this place is great. That all right?”

“Absolutely,” Harry said. Neville looked so comfortable and fit. Harry sighed. He wouldn't trade his kids for anything, but knowing what were the best little pubs or having a comfortable little cottage and time to read books, even if they were twaddle, sounded wonderful. He felt a surge of envy for Neville's life that he clamped down on desperately.

“Seraphina and the Goblin Wars?” Neville prompted as they walked.

“Oh, Ginny was reading it and I think I heard every single twist and turn from her in the plot blow by blow. Are you to the part where Sax betrays…?”

“No! No spoiling it!” Neville said, putting his hands to his ears and humming loudly and off key.

Harry laughed. “We'll have to talk about another book then,” he suggested.

Neville immediately began in on muggle books, which were a recent discovery for him, but which Harry knew a little more about. They talked until they got to Neville's hole in the wall restaurant, which Harry thought did have ambiance. An older witch with chartreuse robes tutted over him and insisted on “making something special” which changed color in little pops as it was served, but tasted amazing. There were only half a dozen tables, only a couple of them occupied.

By the time they left, Harry was in a better mood than he could remember being in for ages. He said so to Neville as they wandered back through the village.

“It's just difficult sometimes,” Harry said. “Work is increasingly more trying since Ron left to work at the joke shop. And I love the kids, but sometimes I don't feel like a person, you know? I'm just a dad and an auror and what everyone wants me to be.”

The stars were out, constellations shining brightly with a new moon hidden. The village lampposts made a dim path through the streets.

“People have always put too many demands on you,” Neville observed. “I do know what that's like in a very small way. Gran always put too much on me to live up to some legacy she thought I should fulfill from my parents. I can't imagine what it would be like if the whole wizarding world was just as demanding of me as Gran.”

Harry snorted. “Well, they're demanding, but not quite that bad. No offense to your Gran, but she's intimidating.”

“She is.”

“I'll bet she was better to you after the Battle of Hogwarts,” Harry observed, kicking a stray pebble along the street. “I never thought you got enough due for your role, because nothing would be enough really, but hopefully it was enough for your Gran.”

Neville was silent for a moment. “It did help,” he said. “She was proud of me. But I think what really helped, for me, wasn't that at all. It was standing up to her later. You remember I started the auror program and then left. I really only did it for Gran. And not only that, but she wanted me to do a whole pureblood courtship thing. She wasn't calling it that, since everyone pureblood was out of fashion suddenly, but… she wanted me to get married and go through a whole courtship. I realized I couldn't do it and told her so. I told her I was leaving the auror training program, taking a job as an assistant at the botanic gardens, and that I was gay and I couldn't pretend. It wasn't easy at first, but she came around. Most importantly, I felt better. I felt like I was more of myself.”

“I can't believe I never knew any of that,” Harry said. He felt oddly ashamed of himself suddenly. Neville had done for himself at nineteen what it had taken Harry another decade to do, a decade that was filled with regrets and mistakes, but which he couldn't change because it had given him his children.

“You had your own concerns, back then,” Neville said. “And I had good friends who saw me through. You should come out with my mates for pub night some time.”

“Maybe,” Harry said thoughtfully, thinking of the pub at Needle's End and how at home Neville had been there and how out of place he had felt.

“You're thinking about something.” Neville paused at the edge of his garden, leaning slightly on the post that marked the entrance to the little pathway up to the door.

“Maybe,” Harry admitted. “Just regrets that are hard to regret. Expectations people have of us. Bucking those expectations.”

Neville smiled. “Come inside and have a drink?” His hand reached out to Harry's arm and squeezed lightly.

Harry wanted to go unload a million thoughts to Neville, who was oddly easy to talk to. “I should go home. Gin already had to put he kids to bed on her own. Lily's teething and the potion we were trying doesn't seem to work. I should be there if she wakes tonight. Take a turn and all that.”

Neville moved his hand. “Another time?”

“Oh, yes. We should make plans, though it's hard with the kids. Come out with me when I take Jamie to the park on Thursday if you like.”

“With the kids?” Neville asked, something odd in his voice.

“Sure,” Harry said. “Only way I get any time with anyone is if they tag along or I see them at work. But I'll try to make it to your pub night. That does sound… fun.”

“All right,” Neville said. “Owl me for next week then.”

“Good night,” Harry said, walking along the path a few steps before he apparated back to London.


	4. The Playground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to up the rating, not for this chapter, but because I did write some dirty bits for later. I know it's a slow build, and that's not everyone's thing, but it'll get there.

Taking Jamie to the playgrounds was always a bit of an adventure. Harry would find a good muggle playground, set up a portkey, and then take them in under the invisibility cloak. Jamie thought it was a complete blast. Harry had started doing it with Teddy ages before. At age nine, Teddy sometimes claimed to be too old for playgrounds, but, of course, he'd go for Jamie's sake.

“Muggles make these places just for children to play outdoors?” Neville marveled when they walked up.

“Muggles are good at making do without magic,” Teddy announced importantly. “Come on, Jamie. What do you want to do first?”

“The castle,” Jamie announced, letting go of his father's hand and grabbing Teddy's instead. And then they were off.

“Will they be all right?” Neville asked. “With all those other children?”

It was an unseasonably warm day, with clouds that seemed to be keeping everything a little balmy for fall. Children climbed and dashed over every part of the massive playground, dangling from ropes, leaping from the climbing frames, and sliding down the twisty slides.

“They'll be fine,” Harry said. “When it's just Jamie, I follow behind a bit and when Teddy was really little, I used to have to really trail behind him to make sure he didn't use his metamorph abilities. I did obliviate a couple of kids once, though mostly he was fine. But Ted'll take care of Jamie. I have to be here, but I tend to get an hour of quiet out of it.”

“I don't think I knew there were this many children in the world when I was little,” Neville observed, sitting next to Harry on an open bench at the edge of things.

“There was a large playground near where I grew up,” Harry said. “When it was busy enough for my cousin to be occupied with his friends instead of torturing me, it was fun sometimes, though my aunt would always find something to punish me over when we left.”

“What are they doing now?” Neville asked, hesitantly.

“Oh, my uncle died of a heart attack last year. Isn't that lovely? My aunt's in elder housing. She's probably the terror of the whole place. My cousin married. He's not so bad anymore, I think. Invited me to the wedding, though I didn't go. He might have kids now. I'm not sure.”

“Sorry for asking,” Neville said. “We should find a happier topic.”

“It doesn't bother me like it did at one point. All through Hogwarts, I was just happy to be there, or distracted by life threatening emergencies. After we defeated Voldemort, I was a bit messed up about how abusive they'd been. I think having kids helped. No one will ever treat Jamie or Al the way I was treated. Even if something unthinkable were to happen to me and Gin, there are binding magical contracts protecting them, things my parents didn't think would be necessary.” He sighed. “But, yes, this is all very morbid. Let's find a happier topic.”

Neville shrugged. “Like that?” He gestured down the hill where a long path snaked through the landscaping of the park. At that moment, a group of very fit young men were running past, muscles flexing, sweat shining on their brows, showing much more flesh than anyone else and standing out among the afternoon joggers in tracksuit bottoms and headphones.

“Oh,” Harry said.

Neville laughed. “Good looking, eh?”

“I… er...” Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh or agree or what. They were mostly just muscled, not necessarily the sort of men he had thought about before. Harry didn't know what was supposed to be his type. He watched them go by trying to assess his own feelings.

Neville laughed at his bewilderment. “University students, maybe?”

“Olympic athletes out for a light stroll?” Harry said.

“What?”

“Oh, international muggle competition,” Harry said. “Er, they were very fit.”

“More fit than I can imagine having time for,” Neville said.

“Oh, your arms are… I mean...” Harry looked away from Neville.

“Gardening,” Neville snorted. “Sometimes I use my wand, but sometimes it's just simpler to grab the bag of fertilizer and haul it myself. Nice to be appreciated though. My arse has nothing on those blokes though.” He grinned at Harry.

“Oh, er...” Harry wasn't sure what to say about that, so he looked back to the path.

Below them, the muscled runners were gone, but now that they were looking, Neville jokingly started speculating about all the people on the path. An older woman in all lilac running gear became a recent widow looking for a man. A group of older boys were criminals on the run from the muggle law. A pair of middle aged women on bicycles were on a first blind date.

As Neville's suggestions became more outlandish, Harry found himself laughing and playing along, trying to correct as Neville suggested simple muggle phones must be bombs.

“You're hopeless with muggles,” Harry laughed. 

“I'll have you know I go incognito in muggle pubs all the time,” Neville said with a wink.

“Do you?” Harry asked, surprised. “Really?” He couldn't quite imagine it.

At that moment, James came dashing up, asking for a snack. Harry pulled out a wrapped up pasty from his bag and gave him another to give to Teddy, who he could see on the roundabout with some older boys, his blue hair waving behind him as it twirled. “Don't let him eat it until he's not dizzy from that contraption,” Harry called after Jamie, who was already running back to the playground at top speed.

“Good luck with that,” Neville laughed.

“Pardon me,” said a voice from the bench next to them. Harry turned and saw a woman just a little older than him with close cropped hair and a fitted button shirt. “Do you live in this neighborhood?”

“Ah, no. We just came for the playground,” Harry said.

The person sitting next to her, a thin woman with red hair piled in a bun, ribbed her and shrugged. “Sorry. We just moved in up the road, for the schools mostly. That's our Chloe on the climbing apparatus, with the red jeans. Trying to break into the mum groups has been hell.”

“I thought we might have found a little queer parent solidarity. Oh well. It is a good playground though,” the short haired woman said.

“Your boys seem like they're very sweet to each other,” the redheaded woman added.

“Oh,” Harry said. “Yes, well, they're not… I mean...” He wasn't sure what to say about the misconceptions they had.

“The older one is a sort of cousin,” Neville offered.

“Well, his blue hair is very cool,” the redhead said. “He looks like quite the little rebel. Good of his parents to let him dye it.”

“Er… yeah,” Harry said.

“Looks like you're needed,” the short haired woman observed.

“Harry!” Teddy dashed up holding a slightly dirt covered pasty, asking if Harry would clean it off. After some back and forth about what was appropriate in a muggle park and whether it was all Jamie's fault or if sometimes five year-olds just dropped things without any malice, Teddy headed back with a second pasty.

Later, as he collected the kids and they all started walking back across the park to the teacup that was waiting to take them back to Grimmauld Place, Teddy asked, “Who were the muggle women you were talking to?”

“I'm not supposed to talk to muggle grown ups if I can help it,” Jamie announced, repeating an informal rule.

“Yes, but it's different for adults.”

“Harry was raised by muggles,” Teddy said, saying it like Harry had been raised by goblins or aliens.

“Muggles are just people,” Harry insisted.

“But who were they?”

“Just two nice mums,” Harry said.

“They were holding hands,” Teddy observed.

“Er… yes,” Harry said. “They're married. They had a little girl on the playground.”

James hummed, as if taking in this information. “Two women can get married,” he said.

Harry nodded. He and Ginny had explained to James, the best they could, about him being gay and how his parents loved each other, but weren't married. He'd bought muggle picture books that James had turned his nose up at because the pictures didn't move. Overall, Harry hadn't thought much of it had sunk in for James. From the kids' perspective, nothing was really different, after all.

“Don't you need magic for two mums to make a baby?” Teddy asked. “I thought they were muggles.”

“No,” Harry said. “Not even magic can do that. When two women want to have a baby, they have to use some of the… well, they need a cell from a man called a sperm to unite with the egg cell from the mother and then one of the women can have the baby.”

“Can two men make a baby?” James asked.

“Ah, no,” Harry said. “You need an egg cell from the mum, but then she has to carry the baby too, the way Al and Lily were in your mum's belly.”

“Mums have eggs? Like chickens?” Teddy said. “That doesn't sound right, Harry. Neville, is that right?”

Neville was walking along with the three of them looking slightly bewildered. “I think your godfather's giving the muggle explanation. I'm only a little familiar with it myself.”

Harry blushed. There was something about the scientific nature of the muggle way of seeing it that seemed easier to talk about with his children than the explanations for where babies come from that he had heard in the magical world, about the unification of a man's and a woman's essence.

“It's all about cells,” Harry said. “They're what muggle scientists have found all living things are made of. Men have one sort of cell and women have the other. If you put the cells together, they can make a baby, but you need a woman to carry it while it grows big enough to be out in the world.”

“I know about cells,” Neville said. “It's part of advanced herbology. You can see them with a powerful magnifying spell. I have a pair of glasses in my lab where I can look at the cells of plants.”

Teddy's hair had shifted to slightly green, as it did sometimes when he was thinking hard. Harry hoped they were far enough away from most of the muggles that it wasn't noticed. “So… if I did this, then my cell things would be a different kind?”

Without warning, Teddy's features shifted, his cheeks becoming slightly softer, his hair becoming longer, his posture changing slightly mid-step.

“Merlin's pants,” Neville exclaimed.

“They don't feel that different,” Teddy said.

Harry looked around in distress, and was relieved that they seemed to be deep enough in the autumn shade of the trees that no one around had noticed Teddy's change. On second glance, it wasn't as noteworthy as before. He looked almost exactly the same. Harry supposed the biggest changes were actually under his unchanged clothes. He gulped and glanced around again, steering the boys into the trees and waving his wand to conjure a log for them to sit on.

“Theodore Lupin, don't you ever do that again!” Harry hissed.

“What?” Teddy asked. “I've done it before and Grandma said it was fine!”

Harry blinked back his surprise and tried hard not to react. “Not that! You know better than to morph in a muggle park! How old are you now!”

Teddy bit a quivering lip. “Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, Harry!”

Harry took a deep breath. “It's fine, Teddy. No one had to be obliviated.”

“I'm sorry!” Teddy repeated. “I was just thinking about the cell things.”

“Are you a girl now, Ted?” James asked. “Daddy, I don't have to be a girl, do I? I want to keep being a boy.”

“Don't be silly,” Teddy said. “You're not a metamorphmagus. You'd need a potion to be a girl. And it would wear off anyway.”

“Oh, that's good,” James said.

“So are my cell parts different?”

Harry tried to take yet another deep breath. “Most of your cells are the same sort,” Harry said. “It's just these few little ones inside your body. And… I… Honestly, I don't know enough about magical or muggle biology to know if yours are different now, Ted. But I'm guessing those ones inside you are. But they're too small to see. Your skin and eyes and heart and everything else are basically the same if you… if you change yourself to a girl.”

Teddy looked thoughtful again.

“If you… want to change back, I can put up a disillusionment,” Harry suggested.

“No, I'm fine,” Teddy said.

“You won't play with the girls more at the Burrow now, will you, Teddy?” James asked, sounding upset.

“Of course not,” Teddy said. “You're my favorite, but don't tell Victoire. She's my second favorite. Besides, I'll probably go back to being a boy. This is just fun sometimes, like when I do an elephant nose or make wiggly, long fingers. I usually want to go back the other way after awhile.”

“Ooh! Ooh! Do a pig nose!” James demanded.

“Nope!” Harry said. “Not here!”

“Sorry,” Teddy said. “I'll do it for you later. And I'll do some for Albus too.”

James scrunched up his face and Harry dreaded what their budding sibling rivalry was doing to them yet again.

“Let's hurry up so we don't miss the portkey I set up,” Harry said.

As James and Teddy made their way back onto the path, passing by a couple walking a small dog, Neville laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and leaned in with a quiet voice. “You're a good dad, Harry.” It shot right through him and warmed him inside. Most of the time, especially moments like those, he felt like he was just getting by, not like he was particular good at parenting.

“It's not always an easy job,” Harry whispered back.

Teddy paused, looking at them. “If you and Neville get married, will he be my godfather like how Ginny is my godmother?” Teddy asked.

Harry felt Neville freeze behind him. “Oh,” he said. “Er… Teddy. We're not… I don't think… I mean...”

“Daddy likes boys,” James said, just as an older woman trod down the path and gave the four of them a slightly disgusted look.

“Oh, er… Jamie… I don't like boys!” Harry said. “Only grown up men. You'll give people the wrong idea!”

“And me!” James insisted.

“Well, that's different!”

“Would you ever get married?” Teddy asked.

Behind him, Harry whirled around and found Neville nearly doubled over in quiet laughter, sniggering and trying to hold it in. “Oh, you're not helping!” Harry said.

“You're doing great on your own!” Neville replied.

Harry sighed. “Boys, or… James and Teddy, let's go, please! The portkey!”

One of the only blessings of having a hectic life, Harry thought, was that sometimes you weren't given much time to dwell on embarrassments. By the time he had gotten everyone under the cloak, gripping the portkey, and then to the back garden on the other side of the house wards, then inside for a proper lunch that wasn't just pasties, he had time to get over his extreme discomfort.

Seeing Neville nearly dying of laughter with Ginny in the kitchen while the kids had cold roast beef and carrot sticks brought Harry right back to it.

“Oh, don't mind us,” Ginny announced. “We're just planning your wedding.”

Neville laughed so hard he snorted.

“Oh, stop!” Harry said, turning his back on the two of them to rummage through the pantry.

“You did great, dear. I'll talk to James about sex and girls and boys again at bedtime,” Ginny said, her giggles dying down. “And about your upcoming nuptials.” She broke down into a peals of laughter again.

“It's not...” Harry felt flustered. “You know it's not… Neville and I aren't like that. I'll try to explain to Teddy. It's not… we are absolutely never… we won't be together!”

Ginny smiled and swatted him slightly. “Just taking the piss, Harry.”

“I know,” Harry said.

Neville shrugged and reached over for some of the roast beef. “Message received, Harry.”


	5. Pub Night

Harry didn't feel as nervous about his second trip to Needle's End as he had the night he'd gone out with Charlie. However, as he walked down the long corridor into the big, open pub, he had a moment of feeling anxious about meeting Neville's friends.

But then they were there and Neville was introducing him around. The only person he knew already was Justin Finch-Fletchley, who Neville had promised was nowhere near as annoying as back at school, “Though he does have a tendency to drone on sometimes,” he added. The others, Liam, Evandar, and Jeremy, all greeted Harry warmly. Jeremy complimented Harry's arse and made such blatant, almost hilarious passes at him that he couldn't decide if he was taking the piss. Evandar and Justin sized up everyone in the pub and then began in on an argument about art that Harry couldn't totally follow. Evandar apparently ran London's only wizarding art gallery and Justin had become an avid collector.

Harry talked to Liam the longest. Liam's mother was Jewish and he was interested in the spate of racially motivated crimes that had been all over the Prophet. “Jewish boy named Liam,” Neville teased. “No stranger than a Desi boy named Harry Potter,” Liam jabbed back.

The group of them kept pressing Harry with drinks. By the time he looked at the clock, he felt more pissed than he'd been in a long time and Neville offered to see him home.

As they left the bar, walking out from Needle's End and onto Diagon, Harry felt relaxed and loose in a way that he rarely did after going out. Neville was rosy cheeked with the oncoming chill of late autumn and Harry felt like he couldn't stop grinning at him.

“You have good friends,” he observed.

“Yes, I do,” Neville agreed.

“I didn't know there were so many people who were gay at Hogwarts when we were there. How did I not know that?”

“Bad gaydar,” Neville said seriously.

“Really? Is there a spell for that? There should be a spell for that.” Harry stepped up onto the curb from the cobblestone street and tripped slightly, catching himself on Neville's outstretched hand. “Nev, I might be a little more drunk than I realized.”

Neville laughed. “Want to pop in the Leaky for a sober up potion?”

“No,” Harry said. “I want to keep feeling like this.”

Neville laughed again. “Then…?”

“Will you walk me home?” Harry asked. “We're not too far.”

“Yeah, of course,” Neville said.

“How are you not drunk?”

“Oh, I'm a bit tipsy. I should sober up before I apparate home. But I know not to listen to them. They all drink too much for me when I go out,” Neville smiled. 

They left Diagon through the back way, out onto the muggle streets and walking toward Grimmauld Place. It was chilly, but not yet wintery cold. Harry felt a strange sense of sadness creeping into his buoyant happiness and he wanted it to stop, but he wasn't sure if he could make it.

“I could have been having gay pub nights for years,” Harry said. “How come you knew, Neville? How'd you know you were gay? How come everyone else figured out life before I did?”

“I think you've just done it backwards,” Neville said. “All of us are still essentially single and… well, not everyone wants to be settled down ever, but some of us would like to be. And to have kids, but it's a whole difficult process to adopt and there aren't a lot of magical children given up for adoption, so then it's a question of living a muggle life.” Neville shrugged. “I… I'm only just starting to think about any of that and I do want to… well, I'd...” Neville looked slightly flustered. “I'd like to find someone. Some blokes aren't into the whole marriage thing, but I am, for the right one, eventually, I mean.”

“The marriage part of marriage is good,” Harry said.

“Yeah? That's good,” Neville said, looking out at the street, where just a few people were walking home or toward the Underground, also finishing their late nights. “So...” Neville studied the muggle cars going past. “So, you'd do it again… I mean, one day?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said. At that moment, it sounded nice, having someone to be married to, someone who was Ginny, but wasn't Ginny. “Just wish sometimes...” He shrugged. He wasn't feeling especially articulate. As his feet dragged on the pavement slightly, he reached out and grabbed Neville's arm.

“I know. You wish you'd gone in the right order,” Neville said. His hand closed over Harry's briefly and Harry smiled. “I just always knew, even back at Hogwarts.”

“You did? Merlin, I feel so stupid sometimes. Did you… Godric's balls, did you and Justin…?”

Neville laughed. “No. Justin was such an obnoxious git at Hogwarts. And I had no idea he was gay. No… but you'll never believe me if I tell you who my first was, in the potions classroom no less.”

“Oi, you can't just dangle a tidbit like that. Who was it?” Suddenly Harry felt bad. He was never a fan of gossip. “You don't have to tell me, I mean. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry.”

“No, it's fine,” Neville said. “It's so long ago now, it seems like another time. It was Zabini.”

Harry stopped in his tracks on the narrow sidewalk, gripping the street lamp. “No! Zabini?”

“Told you you wouldn't believe me,” Neville said, though he was still smiling.

“Oh, no,” Harry said. “I believe you, I just...” He took his hand off the street lamp and put it on Neville's shoulder. “Sorry, I...”

“It's all right, Harry. You couldn't have had a more mismatched pair.”

“But… oh…”

“I know,” Neville said. As Harry took a step forward, Neville walked with him. “He was never as obvious as Malfoy and his goons. His cruelty always had… finesse, you know? But sixth year, he was just… at me all the time. You probably didn't notice it because he was really good at being almost invisible about it all. But just constant snide little comments and more and more of them about how I was a poof and a queer and stupid things like that. Toward the end of the year, I was finally sick of it so when he cornered me in the potions room and called me a shirt lifter, I just stood there and said something like, so what if I am? What would you even do about it? Well, what he did about it was lock the door and kiss me.”

“No,” Harry said, hanging on every word of this story. “Was that… was that it?”

“For that day. The year ended a week later and, well, you know what seventh year was like, a little. Blaise was part of the Carrows' gang – all the Slytherins were. At first, things weren't so different from life under Umbridge, just with a little more violence thrown in. First week back, I stopped some fifth year Slytherins from cursing a couple of Hufflepuff second years. As they were jinxing me, Blaise suddenly appeared out of nowhere, said he'd take care of me, dragged me in a classroom and snogged me instead. It went on like that most of the year. We would have sex in classrooms or closets or once, Merlin, I still can't believe this, but he sucked me off in the corridor behind a curtain and a disillusionment charm while Snape was having a long conversation with Slughorn about something or other… I may have lost the thread of it all pretty early on, honestly.”

Harry felt like his head was going to explode with this information. He clutched Neville's hand, which he didn't quite remember holding and tried not to sputter.

“I know,” Neville said. “It was mad. And he used to jinx me after sometimes, because he needed to show he'd done something. He punched me once and gave me a nasty black eye. But he also told me things, like where the Carrows were going to be and who Crabbe and Goyle had decided to target.”

Harry struggled to wrap his head around it. “So it was… mutual? Zabini wasn't… so bad?”

Neville shrugged. “It wasn't a healthy relationship, Harry. We were using each other. And he hated himself for it. Hated that it was me he wanted. He still said cruel things to me, sometimes right after he'd gotten me off. He called me ugly and fat and an idiot pretty regularly. I don't think he could help it. Toward the end, before I went into hiding in the Room of Requirement, he was obviously scared. He alluded to leaving the country. His mother still had a lot of friends abroad, mostly men she'd had affairs with, I think. They were both trying to get out, but it was hard, even being on Voldemort's side, it was hard.”

“Whatever happened to him?” Harry asked. “I don't remember ever hearing.”

“Oh, he did leave the country. I vouched for him and his mother so they didn't have to go to trial. Remember how that was enough for low level stuff? He said a very begrudging thank you, made sure to call me a disgusting squib blood traitor in front of his mother, and then they went abroad. He owled me a year later, tried to say he was sorry, but he was also engaged by then, and I was… in a healthier place. I didn't respond.”

“Engaged? To a woman?”

“Pureblood customs, as you well know, die hard,” Neville said. “She's Italian, I think. They're still married as far as I know, though I'd be shocked if he wasn't having copious affairs on the side.”

“Wow.”

“Have I shocked you?” Neville asked.

“I… yes,” Harry said. “I had no idea. I didn't bother you asking about it, did I?”

“Oh no,” Neville said. “I feel like I was a different person then. We've all changed. I've had better relationships since then. Liam and I dated for awhile. And there was a muggle bloke I met that I saw for almost a year before… well, cultural differences became insurmountable. But those were both good relationships, where no one insulted me after sex. And Liam and I weren't right for each other, but we're good as friends.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

Neville gestured up and Harry turned. They had somehow reached Grimmauld Place without his realizing it. “Merlin, I'm out of it,” Harry said. “Sorry about that.” He looked down at his hand, still holding Neville's. “Sorry.” He let go and took a step, but he stumbled slightly. “Maybe I should have gone for that sober up potion after all.”

“I'm feeling fine now,” Neville said. “You said Lily's sleeping well now. If you don't want to go home like this, you could… I mean…” He put his hand on Harry's shoulder and cocked his head. “We could continue this instead, back at mine.”

Harry thought about the weekend ahead. He could stay up talking like this with Neville all night, but he'd regret it in the morning. “I should get some sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow. And Ginny is going to a Harpies thing Sunday… there's an opening for a part time coach and she's interested. Not that I know how we'd make it work, but we would somehow. Thank you, Neville. Thank you for sharing your friends and your pub night and… your first kiss story because… yeah…”

“Yeah, of course,” Neville said. “Do you want me to walk you in?”

But Harry forced himself to look carefully across the street and waved goodbye. “No need! Thanks again, Nev!”


	6. First Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just uploaded a chapter yesterday and then two back to back. I had a lot of this written, but I needed to go back and fill in bits and establish flow. So to the scant readers of this series, be sure you didn't miss one.

Lily rolled on the grass with a tiny squeal.

“She likes it,” Harry observed.

“Herbologist in the making,” Neville said.

“Not a bad future, but don't tell her mother that,” Harry said. “Ginny had her in a 'Future Quidditch Player' onesie the day after she was born and she's quite serious about it.”

“Mums the word,” Neville promised.

Harry loved how Neville looked Lily, cooing at her and making faces. It was wonderful the way people lost their inhibitions around children, Harry thought. And even better the way that you could almost tell whether a person was any good by how they were with babies. Neville had no idea how to change a nappy, but he had all the right instincts, to smile and love and be silly to babies and toddlers.

Harry had now had plenty of chances to see Neville be around the kids. It was Albus who loved Neville the most, though he slurred Neville's name so that it came out “Never”, something that had made both Harry and Neville laugh so much that not only had they not corrected him, but they hadn't been too surprised when the strange nickname stuck and James starting using it as well.

In the warmth of the gardens, away from the cold outside, Neville told Harry about his New Year's with his gran, and about Liam's new boyfriend. Harry laughed with him about Rose somehow getting the trick wands Ron had to jinx Albus's hair to stand on end. Harry reflected again at how relaxed he was around Neville. He was just comfortable to be around.

Neville lay on his front in the grass across from Lily, looking at her, making faces. It was only after several minutes that his eyes lifted to Harry's and Harry realized he was caught staring. Neville's blue eyed gaze washed over Harry until he felt like it was too intense and he turned away, studying the bed of flowers next to him.

“It's nice of you to let me bring her here, when you're closed to the public today,” Harry said. “The weather is so dreary out.” He smiled at the magical warmth and protection of the gardens. 

“No problem,” Neville said casually. “Er, Harry, if you don't mind my asking… That is, you don't have to say, but I wondered why did you and Ginny decide to have another one?”

From most people, it would have felt like an intrusive question, but Harry and Neville had seen each other nearly every week since he'd first come to tea and made burnt cheese toasties. They'd now had months of lunches or quick suppers after work or Neville tagging along as Harry took the kids out somewhere or Harry tagging along to Neville's pub night.

“I know it seems mad,” he said. “It was a few weeks after everything and Ginny and I were just… well, we were both having a terrible guilt fest and she said that the worst of it was that we had been thinking of three children, which was true. I don't know why, but we had agreed on it ages ago because it had felt right to both of us. And she said that it was silly, but that she already loved the third child, who would never exist, and she was mourning that more than anything else. Suddenly I felt it too. I hadn't even thought about her, but I also loved the third child and I said I had always thought she'd be a girl and Ginny burst into tears at that. She said we would have named her Lily. That was my mother's name, you know. I ended up bawling right along with her.”

“Oh, Harry,” Neville said.

“I didn't even really think about it, which, as you know isn't like me at all. I just… something possessed me. Er, not literally, but it almost felt like it. The next night, after we got the boys down, I downed a glass of the Ogden's that was on top of the cabinets then I went to her bedroom with a fertility potion and said there was no reason there couldn't be a third child if we were still really a family, like we'd agreed to be.

“That was the last night we… er… Well… you understand...”

“Ah,” Neville said. He had rolled up to sitting, though he was still half playing with Lily, letting her crawl over his outstretched leg and grip one of his fingers.

Harry blushed. Sex was so intensely personal. He'd rarely talked about it with anyone other than Ginny. Something about the way Neville was looking at him, open and expectant, made him feel like he was supposed to say more.

“It wasn't bad,” Harry started. “I mean, I…” he tried to hold back his blush. “It's not a bad memory, that night. I never hated sex with Gin exactly. It just never… felt quite right either. Sometimes I had trouble… you know.” He sighed. “Not long after Rose and Albus were born, Ron and I were watching the kids together and Jamie was toddling around the house and the babies were sleeping, Rose right on his chest and I remember he… He asked something like, when do things go back to normal in the bedroom. And then he said something about how a month with no sex had been driving him a little wild. And I thought, but this part is a relief, when she's just had a baby and no one even has to think about sex. It's so much easier. And then I realized I couldn't say that and it wasn't normal or right.

“It was just a few months later that diplomat bloke made a pass at me. And realized… well, that I couldn't keep on like that. Except in a way I have. Sometimes I think nothing has changed except which bedroom I have.”

Lily tumbled over Neville's knee and he picked her up and handed her to Harry. “Things have changed,” he said. “You're sitting here having this conversation with me, aren't you?”

Harry smiled, hesitantly. “Maybe. It just feels sometimes like I'm still stuck. Like, I thought that when I came out to Ginny like everything would change. And at first, it seemed like it had. But now, it's been a year, or more than a year, and work is just as frustrating as ever, and I don't want to change things at home. It's a miracle they're as decent as they are. But it's also… frustrating.” He felt like he was whinging over nothing. Life was good. He and his family were all safe and loved. On some level, he didn't feel like he had the ability to demand anything else.

“Maybe it doesn't happen all at once,” Neville said. “And if there are other things you want to change, then change them. You can, you know.”

Lily gurgled out noises that were almost baby words. Harry held her hands and let her practice standing with her feet in the grass, then let her lower herself back to crawling position. She fisted tiny hands into the green and tore at it.

“Yeah, maybe,” Harry said. “I just still go to work and deal with the same problems and come home to my ex-wife and my kids. I have family but no romance. It's… Oh, I don't know. I am whinging.”

“No, you're not,” Neville insisted. “And you don't have to have no romance. You… well… you could date or…”

“It just seems impossible. Who wants to date a man with three kids?”

“Some men wouldn't, you're right. There are a lot of gay men who don't like kids,” Neville admitted. “But not everyone. Some men want back alley hookups and casual sex, but some men want kids and domesticity. I mean… I… I want that...”

“Oh, I don't know if I'm even ready for any of that,” Harry said, helping Lily stand again. She stood still for a moment, surveying everything before sinking back down and crawling.

“Yes, of course. Well, you can't quit your family, and I know you don't even want to. But you could quit your job.”

“Quit the aurors?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Neville, I… I can't do that.”

Neville rolled over on his back in the grass as Lily crawled back toward him. She pulled herself up on his chest, which was at a good height for baby standing. “Why not?”

“Because I have to do it.”

“Is there a prophesy about it then?”

“Not funny,” Harry said. “It… the Death Eaters...”

“You said yourself they had nearly all been caught more than three years ago.”

They had. When they had cleared the most wanted list of all the Death Eaters and the department was solidly working was when Ron had left, around the time Rose was born. Harry scowled. “There are just things...”

“I just want to make a suggestion and then I promise I'll leave it alone,” Neville said. “But you know you like to swoop in and fix things and think you're the only one who can. And one very, very important time you were really the only person who could. But maybe that's not true this time at all.”

“It's not like that!” Harry said. “There's the new hierarchy for the whole DMLE. And I'm up for promotion so I'll probably be running things next year. And there's all these racial crimes. And there's the Preston case, which is still unsolved from more than a year ago and I feel like that needs to be seen through. And, well…” Nothing Harry was saying actually felt that compelling. He scowled again.

“Some of the big issues,” Neville said. “You might even be able to make more of a difference from the outside.”

“You just don't understand,” Harry said. “It's not...”

“Harry!” Neville exclaimed, flipping to his side.

A that moment, Lily had let go of Neville's chest and was carefully taking a step toward her father.

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed as she managed a second one. “That's it, Lily!”

She plopped onto the grass, but looked up expectantly to praised for her new trick.

“Hey!” Harry said, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “That was brilliant, Lily, just brilliant!”

“That was her first?” Neville asked.

“First steps,” Harry confirmed. “Go, Lily. Your mum will have you in training for that quidditch career in no time.”

“Wow,” Neville said. “Oh, but Ginny… she missed it!”

“Pshaw,” Harry said. “That's what pensieves are for. I missed both James and Albus's first steps and James's first word that wasn't just mama. Don't worry, she'll be disappointed, but she won't be too upset.”

Neville grinned. “Well, I'm glad I got to see them anyway. Felt rather special.”

“You are rather special,” Harry observed.

Neville, still on his side, reached a hand toward Harry, but Harry was already moving, eager to see if his daughter could take another step. He got to his knees and helped her stand up on her own and watched as she took a tiny step.

“She's been working on it all week. She just needed the bare feet and your grass,” Harry said.

“Yes, of course,” Neville said.


	7. Upside Down Tea Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epically long chapter with long awaited smutty bits coming next after this one little bit.

The day started well enough, though with a sort of edge of disappointment. When Harry came downstairs carrying Lily, the boys were playing together without any yelling or biting. He froze for a moment at the bottom of the steps, just listening to what seemed like a normal conversation. When it didn't descend into screams, he edged into the kitchen carefully.

“What…?”

“I know,” Ginny said. “Don't ruin it.”

Ginny was headed off to her new job with the Harpies. Harry packed up all of Lily's nappy bag and saw Ginny off at the Floo, then reluctantly went to get the boys.

For a moment, he thought they'd gone upstairs, though he could still hear their voices.

“Up here, Dad!” James called.

Harry looked up and saw his sons sitting on the ceiling.

“Upside down!” Albus squealed. “It is the tea set. And see Uncle George is the inventor of upside downs and we take a sip and then whee!”

“It's a ceiling tea set!” James said. “Come up and join us!”

Harry blinked. They didn't seem to have real tea, just a sturdy children's play tea set. He supposed George had come up with it. He'd been on an invention streak since Roxanne got old enough to play with toys.

Harry was so reluctant to make the boys pack up and go, but he used his wand to bring them down and packed the tea set back in its box and let them take it with them. He wasn't sure what Molly would do about an upside down tea. She'd either be delighted to indulge her grandchildren by playing along or Harry would never see the tea set again and somehow the children would have forgotten about it. He wasn't even sure which outcome he hoped for.

By the time he got to work, Harry couldn't deny that he was in a foul mood. The whole Ministry just seemed dreary. Everything was so dark. He made his way from the Floos to his office, but when he got there, faced with the mountain of paperwork, he had one of those days where he just didn't know where to start.

By lunch, he was thrilled to be called out on a case just to get out of there. Unfortunately, it was raining and he drew Quint Thornbridge as his partner for the day. Thornbridge was all right, but he was the most by the book auror there was and terrible at conversation. Harry would call him socially awkward except that Thornbridge seemed so completely comfortable being himself that it seemed like the wrong term.

The case took them to the wizarding side of a small seaside village. The wizarding settlement was mostly along the cliffs that led down to the ocean. Several of the houses jutted out over the edge precariously, held up by spells. That was what had gone wrong in their case. A dispute between neighbors had led to a house's spellwork being undermined. It was now dashed to bits on the rocks below.

Harry offered to do the interviews while Thornbridge secured the area and did some magical investigation. It didn't seem like dark magics were involved, but anything this destructive meant the aurors. In his interviews, Harry endured a garden gnome that bit his shin, one elderly witch who was so sad he had left his nice wife, one slightly less elderly witch who wanted to set him up with her granddaughter, an older man who kept referring to the wizard whose house had been destroyed as “the half-blood one”, and a house that turned out to be so infested with doxies that Harry spent most of the interview stunning them. “I just can't kill them,” the young wizard said. “They're too adorable.”

As Harry and Thornbridge went up to the little pub, Harry noticed muggle graffiti along the edge of the fence. The pub wasn't properly wizarding or muggle. This was one of those villages, like where Ron had grown up, that happily held both wizards and muggles. Harry stood there looking at the intricate spray paint details. There were two bears, a scrawled pair of dice, numerous hard to read tags, and one very large swastika.

“Muggle symbols are so mysterious,” Thornbridge droned. “Are you ready Auror Potter? I think we can have this case wrapped up in another hour if we stick to our tasks.”

Harry nodded. He followed Thornbridge into the pub where they began to take statements. “I need your signature here for the paperwork,” Thornbridge said to the young woman who gave a statement about the neighbors' argument. “I need your signature here for the paperwork,” he repeated precisely to the bartender.

Harry was supposed to be talking to the muggle waitress and wrapping things up. “God,” she moaned, “d'you ever just have one of them days?”

Harry looked up from his notepad. “I rather think I'm having one now.”

She was older than him, but not old, Harry thought. She showed off her cleavage with a tight shirt. “Shite day, isn't it? If I had my druthers, I'd be in bed with my man watching telly and reading romance novels all day on one like this.”

“That does sound better than this,” Harry said.

“You have someone you'd like to have a lie in with? Someone nice? A wife? A boyfriend?”

Harry startled. He thought of Ginny, who had only ever seen television a few times in her life. And then he thought fleetingly of Neville and how reading books in bed with him on a rainy day would probably be wonderful. It was an odd thought and Harry pushed it aside quickly. “Er… no. I don't have anyone like that. But… I do have children. My boys wanted me to have a tea party with them, but I had to come in to work.”

“See, exactly what I'm talking about. I like boys having a tea party. That's sweet.”

“It was sweet,” Harry said.

“Mr. Potter,” Thornbridge's voice sounded from behind him. “If you can refrain from discussing your private life, I believe I am already finished here and we can return to the Ministry to file reports.”

The waitress's face screwed up in dislike and Harry suddenly felt a surge of dissatisfaction that was beyond anything he'd ever felt before at work. It was so pointless. Anyone could do this. He wasn't making a bit of difference anymore. He could remember, back in the early days, when he was out catching dark wizards. There were still dark wizards, but somehow he was taking statements about feuding neighbors, dealing with paperwork, and explaining over and over again why being pureblooded or white or straight or anything else wasn't better. And all this while there were tea parties going on.

“Pardon me,” he said to the waitress. “I'm leaving.”

“I hope you're off to your tea party,” she said.

“Actually, I think I am,” Harry said. “I hope you can go back to bed and watch telly.”

Harry knew that Thornbridge was probably sputtering at him, but he didn't especially care. The place he found to apparate was out in the rain and he hadn't bothering with an impervious charm, so he arrived at the Burrow dripping.

“Goodness!” Molly exclaimed. “Did something happen?”

“No,” Harry said. “I just missed the children.”

* * *

Several hours later, it was Hermione who arrived before anyone else. Even Arthur was still at work. She walked in on Harry lounging on the ceiling with Albus taking apart an old radio of Arthur's while Rose sorted all the pieces into little bins that Harry had multiplied from a single tiny box. Lily was giggling and tottering around upside down as well.

“For goodness sakes,” Hermione said. “Are you really all going to stay up there? And where is Hugo?”

“I think he's still napping,” Harry said. “And James is in the garden splashing in the puddles. We can come down though, can't we?”

“Mummy, look at my boxes of all the bibbity bobs!” Rose said.

“Let's go down and show her,” Harry suggested, turning the little ceramic tea kettle upside down and dumping out its imaginary contents. Slowly, the four of them floated to the ground.

“So,” Hermione said. “You've left your job to become Mary Poppins?”

Setting himself on the sofa and setting Lily down to wander around, Harry laughed. “If there was a real Mary Poppins, she would have been a witch, don't you think?”

“Harry!”

“Yes, all right. I may have sent an owl to that effect a couple of hours ago. I have no ambitions to become a nanny though.”

“Harry!” Hermione shook her head. “Oh, yes, Rosy. Lovely.” She took each of the tiny mechanical parts Rose kept handing her from the sorting boxes.

“Hermione!” Harry said back, raising his eyebrows.

“You don't think it's… well, a lot of change very fast for you? And what about the DMLE? And what will you do?”

Harry shrugged. “The DMLE doesn't need me. I haven't felt like I was making a difference in a couple of years. Things are better there than before the war. Much better. But I don't have to be the one to fix it all. And I'll find a job. Or something. Maybe I'll do charity work. There are a couple of organizations that have asked me to speak out about things I do actually believe in, but I couldn't because I was at the Ministry. Maybe I'll do that. It's not like I have to do anything. My vault has enough money and Ginny is working. It really...” He sighed. “I just haven't felt satisfied with anything. I thought that getting divorced and coming to terms with… well, being gay and everything, would fix that feeling. But it hasn't. And Neville said if I was unhappy that I didn't have to keep working there. I was in a pub taking statements, missing the kids, feeling annoyed, and suddenly I realized he was right.”

Hermione was still looking slightly scandalized. She pushed a stray lock of dark hair back behind her ear.

“You are brilliant at the Ministry, though,” Harry added. “You have the patience for it. See, maybe I should be a nanny. Make sure you can make Minister one day.”

“Oh, Harry.” She leaned back on the sofa. “You're really… rather wonderful.”

“Oh.”

Albus brought over his galoshes and Harry helped slide them on his feet. Harry glanced outside. If Albus was going out, both the boys would need multiple scouring spells before he could take them home. It was just as well. Little children should be allowed to be muddy.

“You don't think Ginny will be mad, do you? I suppose the Prophet will be all over this. I was hoping to keep us all off the front page for awhile.”

“I've given up predicting anything!” Hermione said.

“Mummy, I want to go splash too!” Rose demanded.

Hermione sighed.

“I'll hose her down when I do the boys,” Harry offered.

“Fine,” Hermione said. “Go get kit up for it.” She sighed. “It's just not at all what I thought would happen to any of us. I thought you and Ron and I would take over the Ministry and rule the place. And that we would all have kids the same age and marriages that lasted forever and… Everything. I know it's silly.”

“It's not silly. But we're all happier. You're where you need to be. Ron is happy at the shop. Ginny is going to coach one day, I'm sure of it. And she'll be brilliant at it. And she'll remarry some wonderful bloke one day, I hope. And I'll be happy once I figure out what I'm going to do.”

“And find yourself a wonderful bloke too.”

“Yes, that,” Harry said.

“Maybe you already have…?” Hermione said. “Earlier, you mentioned…”

There was a crash as they realized Rose had gone outside without her boots. Harry could see her bowl right into Albus through the window, knocking them both into the soggy grass.

“Merlin, those two,” Harry said, sighing with relief that they didn't seem to be fighting despite the violent three year-old attack. “What were you saying?”

“Oh, never mind,” Hermione said.


	8. Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a giant chapter where things finally get good.

Harry was feeling particularly triumphant. He had made it through the initial media blitz about leaving the Ministry and felt like he'd been able to control it and say his piece. Lily hadn't woken up before six in the morning in two entire weeks. And while he'd been too busy for plans with Neville since he quit, they were going out for lunch the next week and he knew he'd be able to finish thinking about everything, which would be a relief. Neville helped him do that in some way that Ginny and Ron and Hermione didn't these days.

Of course, the real triumph was that he had somehow managed to navigate Diagon Alley on a busy weekend with all three kids by himself. Lily was slung into the muggle baby carrier that everyone found so easy to mock, but which Harry found so practical. Albus hadn't jumped out of the little stroller that was loaded down with all the shopping and errands. James was being mostly helpful without being too bossy.

It was probably because he was feeling so self-satisfied that everything fell apart. They were on their way back to take the Floo home when Jamie suddenly spotted something in the window at Quality Quidditch and exclaimed, “New brooms!”

Before Harry could chase him down, Albus had broken free of the latch on the stroller, which Harry feared he must have forgotten to magically lock, and was off after him screaming, “Jamie!” at the top of his lungs. Weighed down by everything, the stroller tipped backward and several packages spilled onto the street.

Harry stood for half a second, torn between whether he could grab the stuff or if he should leave the mess to chase Albus. At least he knew where Jamie was headed, but Albus was always unpredictable.

As he took a step toward the stores though, he heard Albus's voice again, this time saying, “Never!” Harry looked up in surprise, spotting Neville across the way, now holding Albus.

“Oh, thank goodness,” he said, leaning over and gathering up several of the bags, then using his wand to magically regather all the spilled bits and bobs from the hardware store.

By the time he had grabbed James by the hand and made it over to Neville, Albus was singing, of all things. And he had noticed that Neville was with someone he hadn't met, a tall man with pale skin and freckles dotted across his nose.

“Oh, Merlin's pants, he's not singing Celestina Warbeck?” Harry asked.

“He might be,” Neville said. “He told me he wanted to sing me a song and broke into this.”

“An hot an I blukey looooooove ew!” Albus belted.

“Too many afternoons at his grandmother's?” Neville said, raising his eyebrows.

“It must be,” Harry said, but he suddenly felt unsettled. Shouldn't he just feel happy at having run into Neville? A moment ago, he'd been relieved that someone he knew was there to catch Albus when he ran.

“Well, I like Celestina Warbeck,” the man with Neville said. “In a sort of kitschy way.” He had an American accent and a deep voice.

“Is there any other way?” Neville asked, his voice light and laughing.

Harry scowled. “Jamie, hold the stroller arm,” he directed. “Will you set him back, Neville?”

Neville put Albus back in the stroller and Harry waved his wand at the belt, watching it snap into place.

“No, Daddy! I wanted to go with Never,” Albus objected. “Don't want the tighty snapper.”

“Well, then you shouldn't have run off,” Harry said, trying to keep himself from snapping.

“Never,” Albus complained.

“I'm busy now anyway, Al,” Neville said kindly. “I'll see you in a few days, maybe. We can make peanut butter toast again.”

Albus fumed about not getting his way and being belted back into the stroller by letting out a string of nonsense words that Harry only half listened to. His eyes were on the man with Neville, who had his hand on Neville's arm.

Neville seemed to suddenly realize he hadn't introduced them. “Sorry, Harry, you haven't met Josh. Josh, the famous Harry Potter.”

Harry scowled. Any other time, he wouldn't have minded the mild jab from Neville, but something about being introduced this way bothered him. “Yes, that's me,” he said.

“Nev said he knew you. Nice to meet you,” Josh the tall American said, reaching his hand out to shake Harry's.

Harry's wand was still in his hand and his other was gripped on the stroller to keep it from tipping over. “Sorry,” he said, though he didn't feel sorry not to shake Josh's hand at all.

Josh only looked confused, not hurt by Harry's refusal. He pulled his hand back. “Looks like you've got your hands full.”

Lily, who had been happily baby talking to everything around her, suddenly squirmed in the carrier, making unhappy noises of the kind that came just before a proper cry.

Neville gave Harry a piercing glare, but Harry looked away.

“Dad, can we go in the quidditch store, please, can we please. I don't want to buy anything, but I want to look. Please?” Jamie begged, and, in doing so, he gestured, letting go of the side of the stroller.

“James, hold the stroller,” Harry snapped. “It's past time to get home. Er… nice to meet you. Come on, Jamie.”

He walked away, more quickly than he'd intended, all three of the kids now unhappy. “Why can't we, Dad?” James complained.

Harry turned his head and saw Neville and Josh walking the other direction hand in hand.

“I said not today, James,” Harry said. “Your brother just ran off, I'm loaded with the shopping, and your sister is cranky and ready for food.” He sighed, forcing himself to get himself in order. “I've got muggle sweets. When we get home, you and your brother can share the Aero bar.” Albus's whine, which Harry had tuned out, suddenly ceased. “But only if you can be good and help us all get through the Floo in one piece,” Harry announced, steering them toward the Leaky Cauldron.

“Oh yes,” James said. “I like chocolate bars. Is it a minty one?” he asked importantly.

“Maybe,” Harry said.

“I like the minty ones.” Then suddenly James was off on a tangent about muggle sweets versus wizarding ones and Harry sighed with relief, only mildly guilty for having bribed the kids.

* * * 

Late Sunday afternoon, the spring rain was back and Harry was in the kitchen with Albus, who was “making a potion” out of various kitchen ingredients. Ginny had shown him how cornstarch and water made a funny goo. Sometimes she put in glitter for good measure. Harry was trying to make a dish to take to dinner, but he was pretty sure he was failing. He'd told Ginny he'd cook more now that he wasn't going to be working as much. She had snorted and that had originally made him more determined, but every time he went to make anything complex, he found himself reminded of the Dursleys and he'd end up in a foul mood.

He probably couldn't blame this bad mood on cooking and he knew it. However, he wasn't ready to admit what it was really about. He was determinedly avoiding thinking about Neville. He'd even ignored his owl post that morning.

But now he could hear Neville at the door with Ginny.

“Is he here, Ginny?”

“In the kitchen, cooking,” Ginny replied. For a moment, Harry thought about heading into the garden in the secret spot between the wards for emergency escape and apparating away.

“You may not want to go in there,” Ginny said. “He's in a mood.”

“I am not!” Harry called out. He meant it to sound like a joke, but he knew it came out petulant.

He could practically hear Neville's raised eyebrows from the next room.

“I'll watch Al,” Ginny offered. “I have to get him cleaned up for Sunday dinner at the Burrow anyway.”

For a moment, Harry and Neville stood still, Harry at the sink and Neville standing in the kitchen doorway. Once Ginny had taken Albus upstairs, they were alone. Lily was in the sitting room, bordered by little wards that kept her in place, practicing her walking and throwing skills with a stuffed ball that automatically returned. James was upstairs with his blocks.

Harry turned to the chopped vegetables and swept the edges and peelings into the bin, giving himself something else to do other than stare at Neville.

“You were very rude yesterday,” Neville said. He didn't sound angry or even annoyed. Harry wasn't sure what to call his tone of voice.

“Sorry,” Harry said, trying to keep his voice normal. “The kids were being trying. I'm still getting used to taking all three out at once. Albus was being Albus.” Harry began unnecessarily scrubbing a clean bowl in the sink.

There was a pause. “The thing is,” Neville said, slowly, as if trying to figure out what he wanted to say, “we're not dating.”

“Of course we're not dating,” Harry snapped. “I'm not an idiot.”

“Right. Then stop acting like one.”

“I'm not. I'm just washing up.” Harry's head came up, as if to prove he could look at Neville.

“We're not dating, so you don't get to be jealous.”

“I'm not jealous. I'm just… confused. When did you start seeing that bloke? I thought we told each other… things.” Harry scowled and looked back at the sink. He scrubbed the clean bowl some more. It was now swirling with dirty dishwater and actually needed to be cleaned.

“It was only our second date. He's just moved here from the States. I met him at Needle's End. He's not a bad bloke.”

“Right. Fine.”

“So now I've told you,” Neville said.

“You have.”

“So...”

“So? So, I'm busy, that's all. I've been busy. I guess I'll keep being busy. I don't want to get in your way or anything.” Harry rinsed the bowl and looked around for something else to do, dismayed that he had cleaned up as he went. Tackling Albus's messy of glittery fake potion seemed like too big a task.

“Harry, I can't wait for… I mean… I want to be dating. I want to fall in love and maybe have a family. That's not going to happen if I just sit around.”

“So you're settling for that bloke?”

Neville practically growled. “First of all 'that bloke' is Josh and he's kind and, honestly, pretty smashing. I'm not settling for anything. Second of all, I barely know him. We're hardly moving in together and getting a krup. We're dating. That's how you figure out if you want to move in together and get krups. You date and get to know each other and try things out. So we're dating. That's all.”

“And having sex,” Harry snapped. As soon as it was out of his mouth, he regretted it. He felt suddenly upset with himself, as if he had left his body and could see how petty and childish he was being. He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“We're consenting adults. So, yes! Maybe! So what? Because, again, you and I are not dating, Harry. I… I left the possibility open for you so many times that I started to feel like a fool. And you've made it completely clear that you're not interested. And that's fine!” Neville's voice raised beyond his normal steady tone as he worked himself into a rant. “It's fine! I'm fine being your friend, your new gay bestie to hear all your secrets in a chaste and honest space and… I know I sound like it's not fine, but it really is. You're an old friend and I want only the best for you and I genuinely like being around you, so I don't care if… I mean, if this is our friendship and this is what it is, it's still pretty great. Because I love talking to you and being around you. And I love your kids. Just like I have other friends that I love to be around and care about. But it's not enough for me. I need someone who wants me back like that, where, yes, sex is part of the package, and where it's not just that I'm invited in sometimes, but all the time. I need that with someone. Because if we keep doing this and I don't start dating again and looking for my own life, then I'm going to start pining and… I don't want that. Because you may think it doesn't matter, but sex does matter, Harry! It matters! And love that's not just… platonic and friends, but is allowed to become something deeper. And I'm allowed to need that.”

“Neville,” Harry whispered. His head was buzzing and he felt more ashamed that he thought he'd ever felt.

Neville was on such a roll that he didn't seem to want to stop. “Maybe you still see me like the shy, awkward kid I was,” he continued, now sounding bitter. “Fat and clumsy and all that. Because that's still me. I'm not a fit quidditch player or one of the runners at the park or whatever it is you want and find attractive. But I am attractive to some people, and I deserve to be with one of those people. And you don't get to be nasty about it when you have made it clear that you don't want me yourself. That's not fair, Harry! It's just not!”

Silence fell in the kitchen. Harry could hear Neville's heavy breathing.

Harry hardly trusted himself to speak, but it became clear that Neville was calming himself down and not about to say anything else either. Harry tried to figure out what he wanted to say. He knew he had to say something.

“I'm sorry, Harry,” Neville said, taking a deep breath. “I didn't mean to go off like that. Our friendship really is important to me and I hope… I hope you can figure all this out. I'll see myself out. I'll owl you about next week, if you still are… well, I'll understand.” He turned back to the foyer.

“Wait!” Harry said, feeling panicked. “Neville, please don't go. I… I didn't know...”

Neville turned back. “It's fine, Harry. I didn't mean to unload all my baggage on you.” His voice sounded strained. “You don't have to take care of me. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of my own feelings.”

“That's not...” Harry scowled, frustrated. “I mean, I didn't know I was doing that. That I was saying I didn't want you. I don't even know when I did that.”

There was silence between them for a moment before Neville took a step back into the kitchen. “What are you saying?”

Neville sounded so infuriatingly calm. Harry felt like he was about to jump out of his skin and he hardly even knew why. His heart pounded so hard, his ears were ringing. “I don't know!” he said, wishing he didn't sound so belligerent.

“Harry?”

“I don't know, all right? I don't know the rules for… Why would you think I didn't… I didn't even know you felt like… How was I supposed to know that? I don't even know why I'm acting like this!”

Neville huffed out a sharp laugh, quickly stifled. “Don't you?”

“No!” Harry said, feeling like he sounded like Albus in the middle of a tantrum.

Neville took a step closer and Harry unthinkingly leaned back against the counter. “I'm sorry, Harry. I think we've maybe been talking past each other for awhile. I didn't… I guess I forgot that what might have been obvious to most people wasn't so obvious to you.”

“I'm not an idiot,” Harry said.

“No, but you're…” Neville seemed to search for the right word, “…very much accustomed to seeing the world through the lens of men and women.” Neville took another slow step into the kitchen. “Let's try this again. Harry, I only went out with Josh because I thought you weren't interested in anything but friendship from me. If that's true, it's fine, but you really have to lay off anyone I choose to date or sleep with, because that's my business and not yours. If that's not true, then you should know I am attracted to you, very much so, and I would love to see where this might go.”

“Oh.” Harry didn't seem able to take his eyes off Neville.

“Please don't make me feel like a fool again,” Neville said quietly.

Harry didn't seem to have any words, but he nodded, not even sure what he was saying yes to.

With another two strides, Neville was in his space. Harry's first impression was how big Neville was. He was taller than Harry, if only by an inch or so, but he was also just bigger, his arms thick from working in the gardens, his chest naturally wide, his fingers slightly thicker than Harry's own as they twined into his. Harry knew Neville was no giant, but he had never been kissed by anyone larger than him, even just a little, and it was strangely thrilling.

As their lips met, Harry felt everything in his body still, as if the moment from one pound of his heartbeat to the next was drawn out into a perfect, quiet moment. Neville's lips were thicker than his own too, slightly dry as they pressed Harry's and moved out in a slow, simple kiss.

“Hey,” Neville said.

“Merlin's pants,” Harry said, suddenly panicked again. As he came out of the perfect, quiet moment, his heart pounded again, the blood rushed through him, making him feel lightheaded, and he felt everything inside him tremble.

Mostly shockingly, as Neville's body came just an iota closer, Harry realized he had an erection, an embarrassingly noticeable one. That simply did not happen. Erections were something he coaxed from his body by touch and attention. Rarely since he was a teenager did he just suddenly feel hard. But now he was, aroused by Neville standing a breath away and holding his hand.

“Oh,” Harry said again.

Neville grinned in return. Harry felt lost in his blue eyes, unsure what was supposed to happen next and hoping that Neville knew.

A shrill cry from the sitting room had him pulling away. For a fraction of a second, Harry and Neville looked at each other intensely before Harry pushed past him.

When he reached the sitting room, he found Lily was sprawled out on the floor, gripping her squishy magic ball, wailing and clutching her head.

“Oh, Lils, what happened?”

She couldn't answer, he knew. Her whole vocabulary was limited to half a dozen words at this point. “Muuuummmmy!” she cried as Harry scooped her up and cradled her, sitting on the floor next to where she had been so occupied just a minute before.

“Let me have a look, sweets,” Harry said. He did the standard things, running hands through her thin, reddish brown hair and looking her over. “No need for an episkey or any dittnay.”

Her cries became less urgent, but she still said, “Mumma,” as she sniffled and choked on tears.

“I think she just his her head on the side of the sofa,” Harry said to Neville, who he could see was now standing by the wall. “Al used to do it all the time, no matter how we tried to pad it. There's a bit of a hard corner to it. Not an emergency.”

Neville nodded.

Ginny came down the stairs then. “I heard her scream. Everything all right?”

Lily's upset increased as Ginny came near, sniffling out more fat tears as she struggled to get to her mum.

“Yeah, she's fine. Just fell down going after the ball, I think.”

“Yes, yes,” Ginny said, grabbing her youngest and setting her down.

“Milky,” Lily demanded, using one of her best words.

Ginny had her top half up in a moment and Lily crawled into her mother's lap, quickly taking advantage of the comfort of the breast, her cries and minor accident completely forgotten in favor of milk letdown.

“Oh, sorry, Neville,” Ginny said, seeming to notice him for the first time. “We're all a bit casual around you, I suppose. You're practically family now.”

“No problem,” Neville said quietly. “It's natural.”

“It's almost magic how well it works to cure all ills, even at this age,” Ginny said. “She'll probably wean before I know it. Some days I wish she was ready now. Other moments like this, it's nice to know I still have my magic powers to quiet her down over anything if I need to. Aside from my wand, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Harry, can you go finish hosing down Albus? And get Jamie into that thing Fleur gave him for his birthday so she knows he wears it, at least sometimes. I'll take out your whatever it is casserole and get Lily's nappy bag together. Neville, do you want to come to Sunday dinner? It's always a madhouse, but we can take one more.”

Harry glanced sharply over at Neville, unsure what to think of this, or what to think of anything. He was a fixture now in the house and their lives. He felt a surge of fondness that was different from the arousal he had felt just moments before and sent a mental thank you to Lily for interrupting them before he could end up too embarrassed and out of control.

“I have plans,” Neville said. “I should probably go. But, Harry, er… I'll owl you, I suppose. Or, you can come by… I'll be home later. Or tomorrow. Or… I'll owl you.”

Harry nodded, almost scared to speak for fear that he'd fly apart.

After Neville left, Ginny looked at him, still standing there. “Did you two have a fight?” she asked as she shifted Lily to the other breast, Lily going half-sleepily. “You look odd.”

“No,” Harry said. “Er, maybe, earlier. I don't know. It's all better now, I guess.” What was he supposed to say to Ginny, he wondered. Neville kissed me. Neville's chest is beautifully strong. Neville made me want to strip down and have sex in the kitchen. None of them seemed appropriate.

“Well, don't just stand there. If we're going to get out the Floo on time, we need to get everyone in order.”

* * *

At the Burrow, Harry offered up his casserole with only mild embarrassment that something in his spellwork had made the edges go all blue. The kids roamed the backyard and wreaked havoc in the dining room while the adults tried to make conversation only to be interrupted. Molly tried to make everyone sit down and eat together, but, as usual, it was a useless attempt as everyone kept grabbing plates and treating the food like a buffet, even taking things into the garden since the weather was nice.

“You look distracted,” Ron observed, as he waved his wand again at Hugo to keep him from crawling too far. Hugo hit an invisible barrier and gurgled, doing a sort of backwards crawl.

“You're one to talk,” Harry said.

“Yeah, well, more distracted than usual.”

Harry glanced around. They were in a relatively quiet corner of the garden. Teddy and Victoire had children's brooms that they were showing James and some of the other kids old enough to appreciate them, but other than the distracted kids, they were about as alone as they'd get.

“Er… I may have...” Harry took a breath and made everything come out at once. “I may have snogged Neville in the kitchen just before we left.”

There was a moment of silence and Harry suddenly worried that he shouldn't have said anything. Ron had been confused but accepting of Harry coming out, at least, once Ginny had told him he had better be. However, he hadn't really confided much in him in the last year that wasn't related to work or parenting. It was enough that he felt like they were still close, but there was a part of him that was scared that they weren't ever going to be close like they had been, like he had ruined his family.

“You may have or you did?” Ron asked at last. “I know some things have changed, Harry, but I would hope you can still recognize what a snog is.”

Harry harrumphed in relief. “Did. I can still recognize a decent snog.”

“Oh, it was decent?” Ron chuckled.

“Stop it,” Harry hissed. “I… it was unexpected.”

“Sorry, just picturing you and Neville Longbottom getting it on in the kitchen.”

“It's not funny!” Harry objected. “Why is it funny?”

“Humor is in the unexpected,” Ron reasoned. “That's all. Just think, all those years in the dorm together, the two of you… well, never mind. It's probably just as well for Dean, Seamus and myself that it took so long.” Hugo shoved something from the grass in his mouth. “Oh, no you don't,” Ron said, lifting up his son and pulling the mystery plant out of his mouth. “Why do they insist on eating everything at this age?”

“Tasting the world?” Harry suggested. “Lily's finally grown out of it, though she sucks on that stuffed kneazle at bedtime.”

“So…?” Ron said. “You and… Neville?”

“I don't know,” Harry said.

“Well, you said it was a decent snog?”

Harry was almost afraid to speak for fear something absurd would come out of his mouth about how incredible a snog it had been. Instead he nodded carefully.

“Then, I guess… you two have been spending lots of time together, right? It sounds like maybe it's something you want, I guess.” Ron put Hugo back down and took a drink of his butterbeer.

“What's something Harry wants?” Hermione came up behind them, sitting in one of the empty garden folding chairs.

“Neville,” Ron said with another chuckle.

“Aha!” Hermione exclaimed. 

For a moment, Harry shifted uncomfortably at Ron's language. “Want” seemed like such a crass term, but then Harry remembered how aroused he had been when Neville kissed him and he felt his cheeks burn.

“I think that makes a great deal of sense,” Hermione said. She launched into her reasonable voice, talking about how nice Neville was and how successful he had been at the botanic gardens, which were basically the qualities Harry thought he cared least about, but perhaps they stood out for Hermione. “...pretty complex negotiations. But I'm sure you've already thought about all of this, Harry.”

“Wait, what?” Harry asked.

“How you'll deal with dating and keeping your family together,” Hermione said.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Harry said, though inside he started to feel a strange sense of panic.

At that moment, at the other side of the garden, there was a loud crash followed by a wail. The three of them exchanged looks.

“They were up on Teddy and Victoire's brooms,” Ron said.

Harry stood up to investigate and found his heart pounding as Ginny ran up and grabbed his hand. “He's all right!” she said, almost desperately. “Angelina's getting her medical bag.” As Harry looked over the crowd, he could see James wailing, clutching his arm, blood streaked across his tiny brow.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed.

* * *

The minute Harry apparated to the little village street, he hurried along and knocked on the door. He knew it was late, knew it was too late at that, but he kept going anyway, driven by the need to have things worked out. He didn't think he could sleep without things settled. He wasn't sure how he'd made it through the day to that point.

When Neville opened the door, he looked surprised. He was in long pajama pants and a muggle T-shirt that stretched across his chest. “Harry,” he said. He sounded happy to see him, opening the door with a hesitant smile that made Harry's heart quicken its pace even more.

“I didn't wake you up or anything, did I?” Harry asked as he went into Neville's familiar sitting room, where little potted plants sat atop piles of books on shelves next to his old fashioned furniture.

“No. I hadn't gone to sleep yet,” he said. “I'm glad you came.” He took a step toward where Harry stood.

Harry backed up toward the sofa. “Wait. Wait, just...” He took a breath.

“What's wrong?”

“I… Before we can… I just need to figure some things out. And I have to say some things.”

“All right,” Neville said carefully, standing still near the door.

“I've been thinking all day. Or, not all day, but since… since I saw you.” Harry gripped the back of the sofa, trying to will himself not to pace, to stay focused. “Before anything else, I just have to make sure you know I can't leave Ginny.”

“Harry,” Neville said slowly, “I'm pretty sure you've already left her.”

Harry huffed. “I know that! I mean, I can't leave her with the kids. I promised her I'd stay there, that we'd raise the kids together, that we'd be a family. Nothing can get in the way of that. I can't move out. I can't go anywhere. And the kids. The kids are my priority. Nothing else can come before them, at least not for a long time. And it really is a long time. Lily's still a baby. And Jamie's still so little. I forget because he's the oldest, but he's only five. He fell off Teddy's broom at the Burrow. He's fine. Angelina patched him up. For a moment I… I mean… my heart was in my throat, you know? Except, no you don't know! Because you don't have kids. Which is why I have to say all this. You can't ask for me to… to put you first. And maybe you want that. And I'd understand it. You deserve someone who can do that… put you first. And Ginny is also… she's always going to be the mother of my children and I'll always love her in a way and you can never get between us. Not ever. And there have to be negotiations about times and things and maybe it's too much. And rules. There would have to be rules. And I haven't worked out what all they are, but… well, rules are important.”

“Harry, slow down,” Neville said, dragging a hand through his hair and back over his face, making him look slightly tired and vulnerable. Harry felt his eyes go wide as Neville took a step toward him.

“James fell off a broom?”

“He's...” Harry sighed. He couldn't remember the last time there were this many emotions running through his body in one day. “He's all tucked in bed. He needed a bone magically set and a lot of dittany and three charms and… I lost track. But he's fine. He's fine now.” Harry breathed, reminding himself that James really was fine.

“That's good,” Neville said. He smiled a small smile. “You must be relieved.”

“Yeah.”

“Harry, I don't want to break up your family. I would never ask that. Of course they come first. I'm not asking you to move out. I'm asking to be a part of your life, not break it up.”

Harry nodded. He felt lightheaded from everything that had been going on all day.

“I hope I already am part of your life,” Neville continued. He reached out and grabbed Harry's hand, taking it in his and cocking his head in question, as if asking Harry if that was all right. Harry was sure his hand was sweaty and maybe even clammy with nerves, but he didn't object. Neville's hand was warm and comforting and meant that Neville was close to him again, which he wanted so much, even though it made him more lightheaded and confused.

“I don't think anything has to happen overnight,” Neville went on. “For the last year, we've been friends. Maybe we could spend a few months seeing if we work as something more. Maybe longer. Maybe we wouldn't work and we'd go back to being friends. Or maybe,” Neville smiled and brought them closer together, “maybe we would work and you and Ginny and I would all sit down and figure out what all those rules would be.”

“Oh,” Harry said. “Yes, all right.” He felt like his legs were weak and all the logical points in his head that had been fighting him were dissipating, leaving only a sense of desire and relief.

Neville's face pressed to Harry's neck, making Harry feel like he was going to buckle under Neville's warm breath. The arousal he had felt earlier was back in force. Only now there was no toddler in the next room or children upstairs to interrupt it. They were alone in Neville's empty cottage.

“Oh,” Harry said again.

“I have been thinking about you all day,” Neville said quietly into his ear. Harry felt his lips ghost their way over his earlobe. “Longer. Weeks. Months.” The hand that wasn't holding Harry's came to rest at his waist and Harry realized he wasn't the only one who was aroused. Neville's loose pajamas didn't hide anything and Neville didn't seem the least bit embarrassed about a growing erection that was now against Harry's thigh.

Neville dropped his hand and his fingers came to rest on Harry's belt. “I've been thinking about this for so long,” Neville said again, his words seeming almost lazy to Harry, who felt like he was a bow about to snap. His lips trailed along Harry's jaw and then back to his neck and ear. “I want to taste you. Now. Please say yes.”

Harry felt like everything in him was a potion about to meet its catalyst. Neville's fingers played on his belt, undoing it slowly, drawing it out while waiting for Harry to answer.

“It's not too fast...” Harry said, his voice coming out as a strangled moan.

Neville drew his head back from Harry's neck, facing him properly again. “I think we already established that we've practically been dating for months.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

Neville leaned forward and pressed his lips to Harry's and again Harry was met with the sensation of kissing Neville again, warm lips and a sort of wonderfully masculine smell and the sense of being backed into the sofa by someone larger than himself, which was shockingly erotic.

Neville pulled back from the kiss sooner than Harry wanted and he wanted to object, but he was completely speechless. And then Neville sank down to his knees in front of Harry and pressed his whole face to Harry's crotch, a hand still playing with his now unlatched belt.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry said.

“Please?” Neville said again.

“Yes,” Harry said, feeling wild. He felt out of control. Neville looked out of control too, his lips parted like he was hungry, his eyes somehow darker than usual, his thick hands undoing the buttons on Harry's trousers and sliding everything down.

Harry had only ever done this a couple of times. When they were first together, Ginny had eagerly tried using her mouth on him, but the experience had been disappointing overall. She had choked and he hadn't gotten off. After that, it had fallen out of his mental list of fantasies.

Now, watching Neville as he leaned forward to take his erection in his mouth, Harry thought he'd never seen anything so arousing in his life. He was shaking with desire.

And then Neville's mouth was all around him, wet and warm and so perfect. And Neville did something that Harry couldn't even identify and there was a sensation of being pulled in and delightful pressure moving right at the tip of his slit and Neville's hands, thick fingers on his thighs and then on his balls, rubbing just so.

Harry couldn't believe the sudden force with which he completely lost control, his orgasm blasting out of him, surprising him. There was a moment where, as he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting forward down Neville's throat, that he moaned and gripped Neville's hair, a feeling of guilt and embarrassment threatening to come over him in a wave.

But Neville moaned too, a happy, sated sound that, along with the way his eyes rose to meet Harry's, and his fingers moved to caress Harry's hip, drowned out the wave of embarrassment and left him just feeling shaky and more sated than he thought he'd ever felt after sex of any sort.

For the longest moment, Neville just held him, his jaw slack, his fingers rubbing into Harry's hips. Then he slowly let Harry's cock go, his mouth carefully releasing him and then pressing his face again against Harry's thigh, kissing and sucking a small mark into his flesh.

Harry thought if Neville's hands hadn't been holding him, he probably would have fallen down and collapsed. As Neville leaned back to stand back up, Harry had to catch himself on the back of the sofa.

“Hey,” Neville said. “I've got you.”

Harry felt Neville's arms reach around him and draw him back into a kiss. This time, the taste was different and Harry suppressed a moan with the realization of why. Neville's tongue was in his mouth, his lips pressed so firmly, his hands caressing Harry's back, rubbing up to his neck and then all the way down to his arse.

“Wow,” Harry said as they broke for air, faces still a breath apart.

“That's a great deal more encouraging than any reaction I've gotten from you so far.”

“Let's not talk about that.”

“About what?” Neville's fingers squeezed his arse.

“About what a hopelessly oblivious idiot I can be.”

“Oh, that.”

“What happens now?” Harry asked. 

“What do you want to happen?”

Harry paused, not expecting the question to be turned back around on him. Neville was the expert, the guide in all this. In the blink of an eye, his imagination took over and he literally shivered with the realization that Neville wanted things from him that he wanted to give. 

“Everything,” Harry whispered.

“Maybe not all tonight,” Neville said, with a chuckle. “Can you stay? Please say you can stay. I want to kiss you somewhere horizontal too. And wake up with you. And eat breakfast together. We keep having tea and supper and lunch. We've never done breakfast.”

All Harry had told Ginny was that he and Neville had a fight and he was going to go make it right. He hadn't made any plans beyond that. He hadn't planned for this. They really did have to sit down and make rules. But for the moment, Harry just wanted to be.

“I… I can stay. I need to go back first thing, when the kids wake up.”

“Mm,” Neville said. “Your kids get up early. Breakfast will have to be one of those things we do another time.”

The way Neville said breakfast was so suggestive that Harry thought he might actually be getting hard again.

“Come on,” Neville said.

Harry had to pull up his trousers to follow Neville into the bedroom. The covers were already back, the room warm with Neville's presence everywhere, his book sitting spine up by the bed, a cup of mostly finished tea next to it, and some sort of blue leafed plant coiling and uncoiling by the bookshelf on the other side of the bed.

Neville pushed his trousers back down, though not his pants, and tugged him by the shirt into bed. Harry shed his shoes and socks before joining him. Once he was there, he felt himself shaking slightly. Neville had said he wanted to kiss him somewhere horizontal. Now, he did that, and Harry felt his whole body relax into it in a way he hadn't before. They weren't stealing a kiss in his kitchen. He wasn't getting back up against a sofa, unsure what was about to happen. He had just had sex, with Neville. And now Neville had him in his bed and was holding him, kissing him with lips that held him and caressed him and somehow conveyed desire and care with just the smallest movement of lip to lip, tongue to tongue.

“You haven't… er… I mean...” Harry stumbled, feeling their bodies press together, feeling strangely guilty that he had gotten off and Neville hadn't.

“I haven't come, no,” Neville said. “You don't have to do anything, if you don't want. I'm a grown up. I can live with it if you're not ready.”

“No, I… really want to…” Harry breathed. “I want to touch you.”

“Then do,” Neville said, his face pressing to Harry neck and shoulder.

Harry reached a shaky hand down between them. In his fantasies, this part was brilliantly easy and wonderfully erotic. The erotic part was right. As he pushed Neville's pajamas down and traced fingers over his erection, he felt lit up inside with desire and want. The easy part was all wrong. The angle wasn't right and he quickly began to feel like he didn't know what to do about that, his movements choppy and wrong.

Neville flipped to his back and slid his pants all the way off then guided Harry's hand back. Now on his side, Harry could watch as well and found that was even better. The angle was better too and everything felt more natural. Neville's hand stayed with his for a moment before relaxing at his side.

“Yeah, that's good,” Neville encouraged him.

Harry could literally feel that wasn't hollow praise. Neville leaked, giving his hand a smooth slide. Now the feeling was familiar, but not familiar. Neville was thicker than Harry, the head of his cock purpleish and rounded more. The thickness felt amazing in Harry's hand and he wondered if he could take Neville in his mouth or even in his ass. He'd been fingering himself for awhile, thinking about being penetrated, unsure if he wanted it. Now, his hand on Neville's cock, he thought he did want it. He knew Neville would be a gentle lover, his large frame would dominate Harry's whole body and…

Harry's panted as he imagined, his eyes glued to Neville's cock so closely that he gasped with surprise when Neville gripped the arm that was holding him up. And there, Harry knew that feeling, that final moment when everything just gets a little harder, a little tighter, except it wasn't happening to him, it was happening in Neville's body next to him.

Harry watched Neville come in Harry's fist. And then Neville gripped him so that he was partially over him, kissing again, Neville panting slightly and saying quiet thanks and praise that went right to Harry's gut.

“Fuck, Harry, you're really ready to go again,” Neville observed, pressing his thigh against the erection that Harry was now sporting.

“I… that was… It's not usually like this for me,” Harry said.

“Hardly a bad thing. You could fuck me, if you like. I like it after I've come and I'm all loose all over.”

Harry drew a heady breath. He had thought about that in his fantasies too. “I… I mean… I don't know...”

“Too much,” Neville said. “Yeah, I… sorry… just in the moment.” He leaned back up to kiss Harry, this time gentler, holding his tongue back, just caressing Harry's lips and then his cheek and his chin with Neville's lips. “Merlin, I have wanted you. I wanted you so much. Stop me if I… if I go too fast. We can slow down… tonight, I mean...”

Harry exhaled. “Yeah.”

“I want to fall asleep with you and bury my head against your neck and talk to you about as much as I want to… Godric's Balls… as much as I want to do a lot of things that if I start in talking about them, we'll never get any sleep.”

Harry felt lightheaded. He was still aroused from watching Neville come, from being in Neville's bed, from the memory of Neville kneeling in front of him earlier. But he also wanted to slow down a little.

“We're a mess,” Neville said, slightly out of breath. “Fuck… my wand...”

Harry found his first, sticking out of his wand pocket. He scourgified everything away and let Neville strip off each of their remaining clothes and pull covers up over them.

“You all right?” Neville asked.

“I know I'm… fuck… I'm still shaking,” Harry said. “But, yeah, very all right. Very. I…” he sighed. “I'm glad it's you, Neville. I know I'm probably awkward and too old for this to be as new as it is, but I'm glad I have you.”

“You do. I'm glad I have you too.”

Harry resisted the urge to talk and he knew somehow that Neville was doing the same. It was late. They would have to talk again later. He thought it would take him a long time to drift off, but much quicker than he expected, his eyelids got heavy and he felt the first tendrils of sleep.

Just before he fell asleep, Neville pressed halfway against his back, Harry was struck by how easy it would be to fall in love with Neville and how well Neville fit into his life.

* * *

Harry thought he was going to sneak in before anyone woke up, but instead he found Ginny sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea.

“Hello, you,” she said.

“Ah...”

“Jamie woke up an hour or so ago and needed more dittany and another potion. I knew I wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.”

“He's all right?”

“Fine. Said to me, 'Brooms are marvelous,' just before he fell back asleep.”

Harry snorted.

“So… did you get any sleep?”

“Er… some.” Harry stood there, feeling caught out. “About that...”

“It's about time, you know.”

“Fuck. Did everyone know but me?”

Ginny smiled slightly. “Maybe. You do have an amazing tendency to… ignore the obvious.”

“You're not… upset, are you?”

She shook her head. “No. You gave me plenty of time to get used to the idea.”

“I think I needed to give myself plenty of time,” Harry said. He sighed. “We should, er… sit down and figure out what… I mean… there should be rules.”

Ginny shrugged. “It'll be all right. But if it makes you more comfortable.”

“I'm not going to leave you,” Harry promised.

“I know,” Ginny said. “Don't worry.”

“I love you,” Harry said, feeling a surge of affection for her.

“Yes, I know. Just leave room for Neville too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just one more planned - a time jump and a bit of an epilogue, but of a nice length with many good things.


	9. Moving Day

Lily really wanted to help with the move, which was why they kept having to take apart Neville's boxes and give her small things to carry.

“You're too little for this one,” James said importantly. “Sorry, sis.”

“Yeah,” Albus said, picking up a box that was clearly too heavy for him and nearly dropping the whole thing before Harry cast a fast lightening charm on it.

“I didn't need that!” Albus declared, though Harry noted that he was still struggling a little with the bulky box. He hoped it didn't have anything breakable inside.

“If you'll all just wait,” Harry declared, “Neville can send all his boxes up on his own.”

“I wanna help Never, Daddy,” Lily declared. “Now that Never's here all times, he told me I can help him feed the plants.”

Lily tugged on her red robes and reached for one of the small, potted plants that were stacked and ready to go into the little attic study they'd created for Neville.

“Oh, not that one!” Neville came through the Floo and immediately grabbed the plant from the box before Lily could pick it up. He coughed and sputtered slightly with Floo powder. “Er, this one, silly Lily.” He picked up a tiny cactus from next to it.

“What's it do?”

“Squirts stinksap on annoying older brothers,” Neville said.

“Really?” her eyes lit up.

“Take it up to the attic for me,” Neville said, smiling as she ran off up the stairs. He was dusty from moving boxes through the Floo all morning and finishing up things back at his cottage, but Harry thought he looked rather perfect with his dark blond hair slightly messy and wearing muggle jeans and a rolled up plaid shirt that stretched nicely across his chest.

“Nev...” Harry started.

“Don't worry. It's just an echinocereus.”

“I don't know what that means,” Harry said.

“It's a common muggle cactus.”

“Ah.”

Neville looked at the mess of the sitting room and shifted a few boxes.

“Is that everything?”

“Yes,” Neville said, with a smile. “The new owner took the keys from me on my way out and everything.”

Harry could hear the same thing in Neville's voice that he felt inside. This was now real. It had happened. All of Neville's things were in Grimmauld Place.

“You live here now,” Harry said, and he found that his voice was surprisingly quivery.

“Indeed I do,” Neville said.

“I think we have thirty seconds before the children come storming back down from the attic,” Harry suggested.

“I have terrible time management skills,” Neville said, “but I suppose I can give it a try.”

Harry laughed and let Neville wrap an arm around him and kiss him. There was nothing especially passionate in it. The kids really were just up the stairs. But it made Harry feel warm and slightly giddy all the same.

There was a pounding of feet behind them and then eight year-old James's voice rang out. “Ew!”

“Yeah, ew!” Albus chimed in.

Harry chuckled. “Get used to it, James. Your father and his partner rather love each other.”

“Yeah,” Albus said, switching allegiance with the wind, like he often did these days. “There is nothing wrong with Daddy loving Never.”

“It's kissing that's wrong,” James said. “Yuck. Take it to your room!”

“Oh, yeah. Yuck!” Al agreed. “Well, it's not that yucky. I would kiss someone… if he was handsome enough.”

“You're six!” James scolded. “You can't kiss anyone at age six. And when you do, it'll probably be a girl anyway.”

“Don't tell me what to do!” Albus retorted.

“Merlin save us,” Harry whispered as he stepped away from Neville. “Boys, there are more small boxes to take upstairs. If you can get everything done in the next half hour, we'll walk over to Diagon and get ice cream at Fortescue's.”

The boys shoved each other in their rush to grab more boxes.

Neville sorted through the plants that needed special attention, putting them carefully on the mantle and out of the way from Lily trying to grab any more. It was going to be a little bit of chaos for awhile, Harry thought. But then it would settle. He still had butterflies in his stomach about such a big change for all of them, but he was trying to stay calm.

“Ginny still here?” Neville asked.

“She left already,” Harry said.

“I thought she didn't need to be there until tonight?”

Harry shrugged. It was too complicated to explain to Neville how he and Ginny had spent the previous night getting slightly drunk together after the kids went to bed, Ginny trying and failing not to be sad or bitter about Neville moving in. He thought he understood. She loved Neville too and was happy for them and genuinely all right with everything. Or, at least, she would be once she had blown off steam and let it all go. Harry didn't think Neville would understand though. So he didn't want to say that Ginny had left early to avoid the whole moving in scene. 

“She wanted to give us some space.”

Neville looked at Harry shrewdly.

“I'm off work for next week and she knew she could take the break,” Harry added.

“Oh, yes, off work. You do know you set your own hours, Harry.”

“And I set them to not open next week while we get you settled.” It was still an odd thing, Harry thought, working for oneself. After he had left the Ministry, he had started doing more charity work, some of which he was still doing. He had spoken out a bit more about various issues in the wizarding world, trying to choose his words carefully. And then, one afternoon as he was doing Ron and Hermione a favor by fixing the magical reinforcements on the brick foundation of their little village house, their neighbor had mistaken him for a contractor and hired him for a job. Harry had come home cackling about it, but he found he liked it. He had learned a great deal about how to fix up a magical home from dealing with Grimmauld Place. Now he spent several days a week fixing houses, repairing loose brickwork, resetting old spells, patching thatched roofs, and generally using his hands. It was strangely rewarding.

“Well, I appreciate it,” Neville said. “I know you get more work than you can even take on. But you're sure there's nothing with Ginny...”

“Really, everything's fine,” Harry promised. “This coaching retreat is going to be great for her. I think they're all just going to pummel each other off their brooms for three days in Italy and call it professional development.”

Neville grinned. “Sounds terrible to me, but I can see that Ginny will love it. And will Tomas be there?”

Harry charmed several of the boxes with lightening charms before stacking them up and walking toward the stairs. “Why do you think we had to pick out new quidditch clothes before she left?”

“Tell me she didn't drag you along to do that, Harry. Your taste...”

“Don't worry. Eloise was there too,” Harry said.

Neville came behind Harry with more boxes. “I don't know if that's much better.”

“Well, you know Gin. She said if things between them relied on the right new quidditch robes then obviously he wasn't the right man for her anyway.”

Just a couple of months before, Ginny had traded angry words about a foul called on the Harpies' beaters with the new Arrows assistant coach after a game. It had turned into a half hour verbal sparring match. Ginny's temper was always quick to grow and quick to fade. By the end of it, she was snipping at him, but laughing. When she finally turned to leave, he asked her to dinner.

Ginny had turned him down, but it was inevitable that they cross paths again. Professional quidditch was a small world. Tomas hadn't pressured her, but they had been consistently flirting ever since.

“Think the coaches development conference will be enough to get them together?” Neville asked.

“Maybe.”

Harry really didn't know. Tomas was a few years younger than them, and she told Harry that when he'd seen her at the last game of the season, with the kids all in tow, decked out in their Harpies colors, that he'd looked almost pale. “I think maybe it's one thing to know in the abstract that I'm a mum, and another to see me swarmed by a gaggle of tiny people,” Ginny had said, sounding unsure. Harry wasn't sure either. He had briefly met Tomas after that game as he dragged the kids off their mother so she could do her job coaching. Tomas had been gorgeous and suave, with jet black hair that stayed neatly coiffed despite his athletic job, and muscles that stood out through his tight robes. He had a quick wit and a sort of loud, flamboyant style. He had done the standard thing of looking a little starstruck upon meeting the great Harry Potter, which didn't necessarily make Harry like him any more. Still, he could tell that Ginny was interested.

“I just think they'd be good together,” Neville said. “From what little I know of him, it sounds like they're both fiery. Ginny should have someone to be fiery with, don't you think?”

“I think,” Harry said, as they reached the top, “that I'm lucky I found you.”

“Oh,” Neville said, seeing the scene in his new attic. The kids were unloading the boxes and the floor was already strewn with things.

“Maybe just leave everything in the boxes,” Harry said, feeling frustrated.

“I told you so!” James announced, though it was obvious he had gone through a box as well and was holding a pile of shirts and a green glass vase.

* * *

It was relatively easy to settle the boys into bed. They were alternating rooms while Harry read aloud a muggle book about magic wishes that they were avidly listening to, correcting each little thing about magic but also excited for the plot.

Lily was still too little for a long novel. Albus probably only managed to stay so interested by virtue of trying to keep up with James. Lily still wanted everything to have pictures and be read three times in a row.

Harry left Albus sleeping and James looking through his own picture books in his room, the one that had once upon a time belonged to one of his namesakes. The whole house was so different now than then. Harry sometimes forgot what it had been, now that portraits had been removed and creepy décor changed out.

Harry expected Lily to be in bed, but he instead heard Neville still talking to her, seated on the edge of her bed.

“You didn't readed it right,” Lily was saying.

“Oh?”

“The mummy has a different voice than the daddy. Everyone knows that.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Lily,” Neville said, though his voice was clearly amused.

“This is the mummy and the brother and sisters. In our family we have one mummy and one daddy and some brothers and me. And a Never.”

“Yes,” Neville said, “that's right.”

 

“Hugo doesn't have a Never. And… and… Molly only has a mummy at home. But she has a daddy but he lives somewhere else. Do you have a mummy, Never?”

Harry's breath caught slightly from where he listened in the hallway. He knew Neville still went to see his parents at St. Mungo's most weeks. Harry had gone with him twice, but both times he had felt awkward there, and Neville had told him it was easier if he didn't come. There had been a scare not long before where his father nearly died. He had developed a condition but was unable to explain that he was in pain or what his symptoms were, so it had progressed a long way before the nurses caught it. He knew it scared Neville, but in part because he had wondered if maybe the best thing to do would be to let his parents pass away if something like that happened again.

“Ah, I do. But she's very sick. She has to stay at the hospital.”

“James went to the hospital when he fell off a broom.”

Harry stiffled a groan. He couldn't decide if James was extra accident prone or if this many injuries was just common in the magical world.

“Jamie should learn to be a little more careful,” Neville said.

“Never, if you don't have your mummy, it is okay because you're part of our family now anyways. You are a bonundandy.”

“A what?”

Harry was just as confused as Neville and he was used to deciphering Lily's baby words.

“A bonunsdaddy!”

“Mmm...”

“A bonuns daddy!” Lily said again. “I asked mummy if you could be my daddy too she said you was a bonuns.”

“Bonus,” Neville said, the word dawning on him just as it dawned on Harry. “Oh, Lily, sweetie, that's… really really wonderful of you to say. I'd be honored.”

“Never, you should give your mummy a magic kiss and do an episkey and make it all better. I can do it if you don't know how.”

“I'm sorry, Lily. I'm afraid it's not that kind of sick. She won't ever get better.”

“But I could come and meet her and try.”

“You can come and meet her if you like,” Neville said. “I'd like that. But you would have to understand she can't get better.”

“Okay,” Lily said.

“You know, I think it's time to turn out your lamps,” Neville said.

“Yeah,” Lily agreed. “That is what daddies say when I am talking at night.”

When Neville got to the hall, carefully closing the door, he looked surprised to see Harry there.

“Didn't trust me to put your daughter to bed?” he asked.

Harry grabbed Neville's shirt sleeve and pulled him over to the wall, pressing him against the space between the doors to the second floor rooms.

“Merlin, you are so sexy,” Harry sighed. “I never knew I could be this madly in love with anyone.”

Neville sniffed slightly and Harry caught sight of his eyes glistening slightly. He leaned in and kissed Neville's cheek and then the corner of his eye, tasting a mildly salty tear.

“I am so bloody lucky that you and Gin are willing to share this with me,” Neville said quietly. “Harry, I…”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Yeah.” Anything they said would just turn too sappy. There were imperfect moments and Harry still had pangs of guilt and Ginny still had pangs of jealousy and the kids made messes and had accidents, but it was all the little imperfections that let you know life was real and not just a perfect dream, because otherwise it might have felt that way.

“You need to come upstairs with me to our room and fuck me right now,” Harry whispered.

“Our room,” Neville said.

“All ours.”

The room was still a mess, with Neville's clothing half into the closet and Harry's things moved around to try and make room for Neville's lamps and Neville's chair. It still wasn't a blended space that was both of theirs.

There would have to be time for that later. Harry and Neville both headed toward the bed, kissing and stripping off clothes. Harry sighed as Neville's hand ran up his chest and thumbed his nipples. Neville's mouth kissed and sucked at his neck. Neville's body backed him up against the edge of the bed.

But then he stopped. Harry ran his hands down to Neville's half undone trousers, reaching below the waistband to palm at his arse. Neville's head stayed to his side, his lips no longer kissing Harry's ear or neck.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Er… We've never…”

“There are things we've never done?” Harry asked lightly. “I know we haven't run the gamut of all sexual experiences, but are really proposing something radically new?”

“No, not like that,” Neville huffed. He pulled back slightly to look at Harry. “I mean… the kids are just downstairs.” His voice sounded slightly awed and slightly strained.

Harry snorted, then tried to contain his laugh. “It's all right. I promise. They're just sleeping.”

“But what if they're not asleep yet? Do they ever come in to ask for a glass or water or something?” Neville's voice went from concerned to alarmed. “What happens if someone has a nightmare?”

“Er… yes, they come in sometimes. They're kids, that's what they do. But there are charms on the door. We'll get a warning.”

Neville took a step back.

“Hey, no, don't do that. If people stopped having sex when they had kids, there'd never be any more kids.”

“Harry, I'm pretty sure we're not making any babies. Magic has limits.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That's not what I mean. It's just that it's normal for people to have sex in a house with children. Everyone does it. Obviously it's how I ended up with three children instead of just one.”

“But that was different!”

“Yeah, it was, for me. But I suppose if Jamie had walked in on the process it wouldn't be so different to him.”

Neville looked dubious. “I thought you were just trying to tell me they wouldn't walk in.”

Harry threw his head back in amused frustration. “Neville! Do you want to break in our new bed or not? Until Lily goes to Hogwarts, there will be at least one child in this house nearly every night. That's nearly eight years. Please tell me we're having sex again before that.”

Neville continued to look unsure, but he let Harry pulled him back toward the bed, taking a step forward so that he was back to pressing against Harry. Harry was pleased to find that his apprehension hadn't completely eliminated his erection, which was now pressed to Harry's hip.

“Yeah,” Neville said, as Harry reached between them to palm at his erection through his pants. “Just… er...” He stepped back and grabbed his wand, pointing it at the door and casting a locking charm.

Harry laughed a little. “No, don't put it down,” he said as Neville started to put his wand back on the bedside table. “Use it to get me ready fast.”

“Maybe I don't want you ready fast,” Neville teased. “Maybe I want to go slow.”

Harry groaned. “Either way, just get on with it.”

Whatever barrier Neville had been facing disappeared and he enthusiastically kissed Harry. Harry felt lost in it. He was about to get fucked, to have Neville inside him, and everything but that thought faded away. He knew Neville would take care of him. This moment, before sex, where he let go and let Neville take over, was always deeply relaxing.

It was a night of milestones and Harry couldn't help but think about the first time they had sex, Neville on his knees before him and Harry shocked that sex could be this good or that another man should really want to do these things with him. Since then, Harry had learned to love the smell and taste of Neville's cum on his tongue. He'd learned how to slick his fingers with lube and stretch out Neville's anus and sink inside it, everything too much and yet just right at the same time. He'd learned how to lift his hips to hook his thinner legs over Neville's hips and tilt his body just right to feel the pounding pleasure that could be had from bottoming.

That's what he wanted now. He wanted Neville to fill him, to take care of him, to blanket him with his whole body, his muscled arms on either side of Harry and his cock pressing in and pulling back over and over.

Despite his words earlier, Neville didn't tease him. Within a few minutes, they were naked and Harry was in the exact position he had wanted, bracketed by Neville, filled with Neville, letting his body hurtle toward release.

It was an hour later, both of them halfway in pajamas, their mess scourgified away, that Harry's wand made a sound and the door made a little ding and they heard the creak of little feet on the steps.

Neville had been reaching for his book, a muggle book about organic gardens. He turned to Harry. “I told you!” he practically hissed.

“I told you we'd have a warning,” Harry retorted.

It was James, complaining of insomnia or a nightmare. It wasn't completely clear which. He was sleepy eyed and slightly incoherent.

“Come on,” Harry said, getting out of bed, glad he at least had his pajama pants on. “I'll walk you back down.”

“Never's here,” James said, mildly confused. “Oh yeah, he lives here now. Okay. Good night, Neville. I love you.” He yawned as Harry guided him toward the stairs, his heart full of family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you like Harry/Neville stories, I have a few of them.
> 
> [The Young Wizard's Guide to Growing Up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12192438/chapters/27682281) is a sweet T rated story about a very naive Harry getting basic sex ed from Neville and then lots of love and support.
> 
> [Outsider](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9710111/chapters/21905783) is part of a series I have where Harry and Ginny are poly. It's centered on five different encounters between Neville and Harry and can totally be read without reading the rest of the series. I originally wrote it on its own, actually. I consider this work some of my best smut, but it also has lots of feels.


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